


Message in a ... Thermos?

by ducktoswan



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Smut, F/M, Marriage Proposal, Post-Season/Series 04 Finale, case fic sort of, moldavite - Freeform, prophecy hunting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:22:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 24,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23584558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ducktoswan/pseuds/ducktoswan
Summary: Chloe and Lucifer exchange letters.  Chloe treats the search for the rest of the prophecy as a case.  Quintessential Deckerstar.   Mutual longing.   Song lyrics as inspiration. Stranded on a deserted isle.
Relationships: Amenadiel & Chloe Decker, Amenadiel & Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Azrael & Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Chloe Decker & Ella Lopez, Chloe Decker & Linda Martin, Chloe Decker & Trixie Espinoza, Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 36
Kudos: 98





	1. Cold

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing but utmost admiration for the folks who create these characters and those who bring them to life on our screens and all the folks who channel emotion into song.

**Hell**

“Your cold cases, Detective? What could I have done to help you solve them whilst I was in Hell?”

Chloe’s disappointed glance away from him destroys Lucifer’s happiness at their reunion, even if it is only in the Hell loop his sleep has become.

“While you were in Hell, Lucifer, I continued my work to bring justice. I always thought of you, down in Hell, still my partner in crime solving, using your mojo on dead suspects so they would confess useful clues to us. I searched for the rest of the prophecy, so you could be free. I dedicated myself to mothering Trixie and helped Maze with running Lux.” As wraith Chloe fades away, Lucifer struggles open his eyes. Post some frantic scratching, complete with yanking eyelashes out, Lucifer finally frees his eyes from the cement created in Hell when falling ash mixes with the tears of recurring nightmares. He sits up, puts a hand to his face and mutters, “Must put an end to that hallucination.”

(What could I do to help her solve crimes while stuck in Hell? Cold cases, the wraith said, dead suspects. Still another reason to go torture Graham again today, his many cold cases were dumped on her. It haunts my consort that she can’t decipher his chicken scratch for the clues there. That recently arrived soul from LA lockup thought he could permanently delay the descent into his punishment with word of the her. Did work for awhile, I questioned him incessantly, til he thought that was his Hell loop. Told me over and over that Malckie’s unsolved cases were dumped on, on her. Will this nightmare stop if I visit Graham and discover what the illegible notes said? If nothing else, I’ll make sure he is as miserable as I am. Check that, as miserable as I can make him.)

Lucifer bellowed for Squee. He limps in and Lucifer stretches his mouth toothily in satisfaction. Every demon who’d journeyed Earthside and disobeyed him by possessing humans had been outfitted with custom made stilettos, stick-em on the floor side of the shoes and a metal meat tenderizer, rusty points sharpened, on the foot side. Currently, with one exception of Squee, those demons were now messengers, sent in pairs all over Hell, the long way round, to deliver the Devil’s commands. To be sure the disobedient demons traversed the most miles, Hellish fitbit trackers had been attached to each. In order to impress upon the remaining denizens of Hell the rewards of disobedience, Lucifer had instructed that the demons who’d journeyed to the Mayan were required to carry chalkboards and squeaky chalk while they traversed Hell’s scree paths. One demon in each cringing pair continuously drew pictures of wings, chalk screeching against chalkboard. The caterwauling summoned the demons who had remained in Hell to attend the parade of pain decreed by Lucifer for possessing humans.

Lucifer noted with satisfaction Squee’s cringing, even when Lucifer held perfectly still. Obviously, Squee was expecting a regular morning, when the Devil would experiment with new punishments designed to convince all demons that Earth was off limits, except with Lucifer’s express permission.

**Precinct**

“Your cold cases, Decker? What plan do you have to solve these? You’ve had more than a month to work on them,” the new lieutenant sneers, flourishing yellowing papers at her. They flutter, sounding very dimly like wings in flight.

Forlornly, Chloe glances towards the stairs. Still no Lucifer, no partner for crime solving or mitigating an overbearing boss. Had the lieutenant heard about her fracas with Graham and decided to torture her with all his unsolved cases, or was it just lousy coincidence? Like the rest of her life now. (Stupid Malcolm, couldn’t be bothered to write legibly or complete reports. What a nightmare, to be responsible for amending his professional inadequacies. I wonder if its wrong to pray to Lucifer to make Malcolm as miserable as I am. Never mind, misery might love company, but its not worth the price of dealing with the memories of what Malcolm did. And still does, to frustrate justice and my career.)

After the lieutenant leaves the bullpen, Chloe stomps to Ella’s lab. Perhaps the lab tech will have some fresh idea to apply to these cold cases. Chloe’s mouth tightens, Ella’s normal morning exuberance has vanished again. The lieutenant visits the lab first thing every morning, to scoff and snipe unproductively. His disparaging attitude weighs on Ella enough that Chloe contemplates the different ways Lucifer could terrify lieutenant. (I miss his unstinting support of me. It balanced the world’s disdain for my choices. He always encouraged me. Ella seems to need some uplifting now, too. The only cure I know is to concentrate on the work.)

“Help me review these cold cases, Ella, maybe there is some new technology we could apply to the evidence to solve the crimes and bring justice to the victims.”

Ella replies, “That’s not the only justice languishing in Lucifer’s absence,” as she glares through the glass at the new lieutenant’s office.


	2. Tedious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Longing

“Tedious, Linda, my job is now full of tedium. The lieutenant tediously complains and criticizes. As if I’m responsible for all the crimes in California. Its as if no one else can do paperwork correctly or even write in decipherable English. And I enjoyed putting the pieces of a crime puzzle together with him. All those dirty jokes kept the tedium at bay. Sometimes, his whacky comments would jolt me out of a rut and I could get past the suspect’s deceits and figure out who committed the crime.”

(its ridiculous, to miss his absurd tangents, even if they did help me solve cases. It seemed like most of the time he barely knew which case I was working on sometimes.) Chloe sighs, (that’s not true either, I can remember him saying he stayed because a case was important to me, even after we both knew it had no relevance to him. I’ve no hope of keeping up my solve rate without him. He’s the Devil, I’m sure he’s busy in Hell and forgotten about me. Or moved on, with some gorgeous demon like Maze?)

“Done grousing for today, Linda. I’ll sit at the beach for awhile.”

(Just to be close to a place he and I had a moment, before responsibilities separated us. Why did I waste so much time? We could have had so much more.)

Chloe shivered, biting back a moan of despair. She’d learned not to give into hopelessness during the past few years with Lucifer. Escaping from burning kitchens and other desperate situations with him had taught her to start at the top, with what was the most pressing issue.

Finding a way around the prophecy that Lucifer would accept was the first step. He could stay on Earth with her, as they both wished. And how could she find the way around that stupid one sentence teaser – research into prophecy. Following the paper trail, the part of solving cases she excelled at, without Lucifer. What prophecy did she know? Well, Trixie had been reading Harry Potter. The prophecy in those books had certainly been much longer than the one Kinley had been blathering. Could it be possible that the conniving priest had been working with incomplete data? As a detective, Chloe was certain that only by gathering all the information could they solve the mystery of the prophecy about her and Lucifer.

Second point gleaned from HP. People trying to prevent the prophecy from coming true usually interpreted the incomplete foreseeing incorrectly. Therefore, there must be at least a second part to this mystery. She’d never paid much mind to religion, best to leave celestial research to Amenadiel. Where might the best place be to hunt for other clues?

“Hell,” Lucifer explains, “Squee, is useless paper shuffling. Tedious, tedium, tediously, all synonymous for paperwork, Squee. Yet, here we are, interviewing all the miscreants from Los C, California. And I’m stuck doing the writing, none of you disobedient demons will be taught to write English while I’m lord of Hell. Even I don’t care to contemplate the trouble you could cause for humanity by scribbling your crazed ideas in a language modern people can read. Plenty of conniving deceitful charlatans out there already.”

(this is ridiculous, as well as tedious. Writing down clues to help her solve cases. I don’t even know if these cases are ones she has been given. I’ve no hope of even communicating with her. When she stayed away to ‘process’, after seeing my Devil face, I did nothing to assist LAPD on cases. Ella never rebuked me for that, but do I want to take a chance with HER opinion. I did have a second chance with her, but has she even noticed that I’m not around? Or moved on, as she had to when Dan deserted her?)

“Done for today, Squee. I’ll oversee from the pinnacle awhile.” 

‘With no one there but me

More loneliness

Than any man could bear

Rescue me before I Fall into despair

I fly up, to my lonely perch of emptiness

Just to be hundreds of feet closer to her,

while dimensions separate us.’

Meanwhile, Hell shuddered,

the voiced and unvoiced moans and screams,

a continuous cacophony of despair,

echoing the emotions,

descending from the prisoner of the throne. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For prophecy research thanks to JK Rowling.  
> Paper shuffling as a part of Hell is from Beetlejuice.  
> Credit to Liannabob who wrote Function and inspired my muse to believe Hell would echo Lucifer’s emotions.  
> The lyrics from Message in a Bottle by the Police provided the spark for Lucifer's thoughts while headed to the throne.


	3. I Don't Care If It Hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Separated by time and dimensions, our Devil and Detective are still in harmony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, why does Lucifer always have the flask with him?  
> And did you really think Kinley acted alone?

Lucifer flies to the highest point in his ashy, sulphurous cage, defiant.

“Hurts, to reminiscence and I don’t care,” Lucifer declares to himself, prepping for an intense moping session from his towering throne, where he can oversee the hellish domain but still have privacy. He thumps down onto the seat and starts his Hell loop at a favorite spot. At the beach, the Detective kissing him, after his confessions of less positive qualities. Maybe, this time, it would be different. I’ll stay in the happy part of the loop, where she makes passes at me and I’m oblivious.

“Luuuuu, up here.” Lucifer jumps off the throne, wings spread for a quick ascent.

In millennia, none of his family had actually spoken with him while in Hell. No matter how tough someone thought they were, Azrael had never had enough trouble with a damned soul to contact him.

“Lu, you need to interrogate this one,” as the Angel of Death shakes her protesting parcel to stop his flailing.

“Azrael, there are plenty of priests in Hell. Same stupid guilts.” Lucifer sees nothing of interest about this soul or his complaints.

“Lu, this one is a protegee of Kinley. The movement to send you back to Hell did not die with him, it gained strength,” Azrael has gone from apologetic sister to emphatic celestial. “His followers now believe everyone associated with you should be killed, so you have no reason to return to Earth.”

“Who, start.” Lucifer tried to function through the dread, but the Detective, even further away. IN Heaven, where he absolutely can’t go.

“Lu, you are the one with experience investigating, that’s why I brought him to you. I know Ella and the others are in danger from these fanatics, but not a clue what to do.” Azrael admits.

“What do you truly desire?” Lucifer channels his anger for the more subtle approach the Detective encouraged. Her method results in necessary information, not just punishment. Besides, there will be plenty of time down here to torture this misguided sycophant later. (Plenty of time, plenty of long, boring, lonely ashy grey existence to endure.)

After Lucifer interrogates the raving priest, he instructs Azrael. “Rae, take all this information to Amenadiel. He’ll know what to do. I’ve written it all out for you,” Lucifer shoves the scrolls at Azrael.

“Lu, you hate paperwork and torture the damned with it. I can read every word you penned and you made sense out of his terrified babbling. When did you become a scribe?”

“Just recently, down here.” (for her, wait for her. If Rae takes these papers, could she take the others I’ve written out for HER? This is a way to communicate with the Detective from Hell. Will this make her happy, will it make her notice that I’m not around and remember me? It was much better, up top, helping her in the fight to stop the misery from spreading rather than stuck down here with the fallout from misdeeds and no hope of amending them or preventing more depravity.)

“Azrael, could you, would you take other papers? And ask Amenadiel to give them to her?” Lucifer tries to ask diffidently, hoping Azrael won’t realize how important this is to him.

“Ohhh, love notes, how cute, Lu.” Azrael grins as she needles her brother.

“Sadly, no. I, I questioned some of miscreants in her cold cases. Maybe, some of what I did could be useful to her,” Lucifer’s yearning to be useful to his partner shines through his attempt to act diffident about Chloe’s opinion of him.

“Lu, did you want to write a more personal note to Chloe?” Azrael tries to encourage her brother.

“For once, I don’t know what to say. Its been so long. What is Chloe even thinking about these days?” despair at their separation echoes in Lucifer’s tone.

“When Chloe came to visit Charlie, she kept muttering like a dirge ‘A hundred days have made me older,’” Azrael reports.

“Ah.” Lucifer takes a fresh piece of paper and quill and scratches three lines. He folds the paper, writing inward. 

He removes his ever present flask from an inside jacket pocket. “I was saving the last of my whiskey for a particularly bad day,” he grumbles to Azrael, “but getting the scrolls to the Detective will be a much better use for the flask. Want some?” as he flourishes the container at Azrael in invitation.

“No, thanks,” his sister watches him curiously.

“More for me,” Lucifer responds cheerfully and swigs the last of the liquor more quickly than he normally would. After all, time is passing more quickly on Earth than here in Hell. Who knows if Chloe is still interested in him or the clues he can provide to her.

He unclips the hidden hinge on the side of his flask, flipping the side open, revealing an interior compartment. Lucifer rolls up the scrolls tightly, stuffing them into the flask to safely convey the papers between dimensions.

“You know which papers are for whom?”

“Yes.”

“Has it been a hundred days up top?” Lucifer wonders dejectedly to his sister.

“Lu, I don’t know. I’m back and forth between dimensions so much that I really can’t judge time on any plane.”

“I don’t care if it hurts, to think of him.” Chloe fakes slamming paperwork onto the kitchen counter. Not her kitchen counter, but Linda’s. The fake slam was so as to not wake Charlie. “Linda, why can’t I have some happiness, without so much pain? How could I have been so oblivious to his dedication to me?”

“Chloe, out here.” Chloe rushes out to the backyard, where Amenadiel is holding sheaves of rolled up papers and one folded paper. “You need to read this one.”

“Amenadiel, the outside is blank, how do you know its for me?”

“My sister, Azrael, brought it to me. Said it was from Luci,” his voice trails off as Chloe yanks the folded paper out of his hand.

She opens it up, and tears fall.

Linda asks, “What does it say, Chloe?”

“It’s the lyrics to the song I keep humming. How did he know?” Chloe wonders.

To have some semblance of privacy, Chloe doesn’t read aloud Lucifer’s quote of the Three Doors Down song she has been humming.

‘Since the last time I saw your pretty face. 

A thousand lies have made me colder.

And I don’t think I can look at this the same.’

Instead, she takes a page from Lucifer’s book and distracts Amenadiel with a question, “Are any of those other pages for me?”

“Maybe, these papers seem to be about crimes in L.A.” Amenadiel responds, shifting the scroll Lucifer wrote him about the threat from Kinley’s followers back into the flask.

“May I see?” Chloe puts her hands out imperiously for the papers she sees in his hand.

Amenadiel hands over the papers containing notes from Lucifer’s questioning of guilty souls. 

Tears fall onto the papers. “He wrote all this for me. Confessions, and information from suspects and that dirty rat, Malcolm. Paperwork, he did for me.”

“Oh, Amenadiel, can you take a letter back to him?” For the first time since Lucifer left, Chloe is finding some hope.

“Not at this time, but Azrael can,” Amenadiel assures Chloe. “If we can find something to protect the paper from the transition between dimensions. The flask won’t survive another transition between dimensions, it was keyed to Lucifer.”

Chloe rips a fresh sheet of paper from her detective notepad, scribbling her reply.

While Chloe writes, Linda rummages in the kitchen for proper packaging. Amenadiel instructs her and Trixie, “The container needs to protect the papers from the heat of changing dimensions and Hell’s upper reaches. It needs great insulation and the ability to endure intense sudden heat.”

“I know, I know,” Trixie chirps excitedly. “Mom bought me this Yeti for my camping trip. They advertise that it will keep ice from melting in a hot car all day. You can have it for Mom’s letters to Lucifer,” Trixie flourishes her thermos. “Can we put the picture I drew here today in too?”

“Yes, Monkey, we can.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like most writers, I thrive on kudos, comments and bookmarks. Thanks for inspiring me.
> 
> I don’t care if it hurts is from Creep. Cover by Tom Ellis.
> 
> A hundred days have made me colder and other lyrics credit to Three Doors Down
> 
> The idea that celestials would transport important materials in a thermos is from ‘Good Omens.’


	4. My Baby Wrote Me a Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The letter writing begins the prophecy hunt.

Dear Lucifer,

But all the miles that separate.

They disappear now when I’m dreaming of your face.

I miss you very much. Everyone does. I’m thrilled you thought enough of our partnership to gather these clues for me. I know paperwork is one of your least favorite things. I’m able to keep the papers, now and look at your handwriting every day and know you are thinking of me, too. 

Also, I can write you. I don’t think there will be a delivery every day, poor Azrael is already overworked. We need to talk to your Dad about vacation time.

Your lawyer has visited me. I put most of the money away for Trixie’s education. I took a page from your book and was spontaneous. I bought that beach property, cheap, from the husband of the lady who killed to keep people off ‘her’ beach. In hopes you can return here someday.

Amenadiel is exploring the idea that the prophecy is not complete. I’ve decided to treat this quest for the rest of the prophecy as an investigation. Boy, do you get a bad rap. First, a one sentence prophecy is just too short. Second, the first person to try and prevent the prophecy is the one that starts it off. Certainly true in Kinley’s case. I wonder what else he knew and ignored because it didn’t fit his world view.

Trixie drew a picture of Charlie for you while I was writing this and we put it in her thermos for you. He is a very cheerful baby.

Oh, my love, my fearless love,

I feel like the sky has fallen and the sea has risen up trying to drown me,

But its nothing compared to my love for you.

Stay strong, Lucifer. Together, we have found a way out of many a tight spot and we will again.

Amenadiel says that he needs to take this to Azrael now.

I will not say goodbye,

Chloe

Lucifer looks up from reading the letter, wondering if he appears as distraught as he feels. Chloe did think of him, planning for a future with him. There might yet be hope for returning to her, but would it not be ruined again, because that was his existence. Did he care, if he could spend more time with her? Apparently not, as long as she was safe, he would try again, and again. As often as she would let him.

“Rae-rae, she, my baby just a-wrote me a letter. To, to reassure me. Plenty of people have written before, asking for favors or to summon me for some nefarious purpose of their own. None of them were ‘thrilled’ to pen me. She’s made plans for us, there’s an us!?, after my return. What do I do now to help her with this investigation of the prophecy? Should I even try to return to her, I do after all ruin the lives of everyone?”

“Lu, what do you normally do to help her solve a case?” Azrael ignores Lucifer’s doubts about his impact on others.

“Act like a jerk, make it all about me, coerce a few suspects to spill their desires and, and jump between her and any projectiles,” Lucifer reminisces proudly about his ability to protect Chloe.

“Well, this time it is all about you. You already know the suspect to interrogate?”

“Kinley, that smug anthropomaniac,” Lucifer’s disdain shines through.

“A what, Lu?”

“Someone who thinks they can discern prophecy from the remains of the dead,” Lucifer explains. “He convinced one person to kill two others to make me reveal my devil face and record me, without my permission, to prove I was the Devil to others.” During Lucifer’s explanation, his eyes flash red at the memory of being tricked.

“If you know what his purpose was, why would Chloe want you to interview him?” Azrael wonders.

Lucifer muses, “The Detective, she often questions witnesses and suspects several times.”

“Why?”

“Often people’s stories conflict, both with what they said the first time and also with other people’s statements. Sifting through the discrepancies reveals the truth behind the babbling, sooner or later.” Lucifer concludes, obviously reasoning it out for the first time.

“Lu, you might be a long time gathering clues. Its not Netflix, where you can binge watch the same scene over and over again til it makes sense. And all events add up to the conclusion.”

“I can binge the same event over and over again. I’ll just tinker with the Hell loops,” Lucifer declares. “Listen, sister, can’t you see I got to get back to my Detective. She wants me! home.”

“So if you put Kinley through an adjusted Hell loop, you might learn more about the prophecy and if he didn’t tell all of it.” Azrael reasons out.

“Yes, if I can figure out the difference between prophecy and wishful thinking on Kinley’s part,” Lucifer muses, internally unsure of his ability to discern between the truths his opponent may have discovered and extrapolations of that truth to fit a religious interpretation.

“Right, wishful thinking. Lu, do you think the rest of us get a chance for our own family, like you and Amenadiel? An end to the workday and someone to go home to afterwards?” Azrael’s longing for respite and emotional connection is obvious even to the self centered Devil.

Lucifer cautions, “Rae-Rae, I’ve paid a very high price for even dreaming of such a thing. For wanting a choice.”

“I, I already want. Was it worth it?”

“Yes. YES. Rae,” Lucifer swallowed the pain of honesty. “Thank you for bringing the letters. And taking mine to her. Know messenger pigeon wasn’t the side gig you wanted.”

“S’alright. Your Chloe, she brings hope to all of us with bad reputations because of the job we have. You know she is expecting a letter from you. Write her back.”

“Rae, the Devil has a glib tongue, but apparently writer’s block.”

Dearest Detective,

I'm here without you, baby  
But you're still on my lonely mind

I’m glad you did something fun with the money I left for you.

I will interrogate Kinley and his cohorts, since you wish it.

Thank the Spawn for the picture. Tell Linda and Amenadiel the baby looks fine.

If the sky falls, look for me, tumbling through it on my way to you.

You are the Devil’s very first pen pal.

Lucifer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My baby wrote me a letter is sung by the Boxtops
> 
> Many awesome writers here felt Lucifer would leave Chloe some of his material possessions in the event of his departure. I thank them.
> 
> My Love will Never Die – Claire Wyndham
> 
> Thanks Netflix


	5. And Still, I Think of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Letters sent and unsent. Whispers of daydreams with which to torment each other.
> 
> A chapter with lots of thought and feelings and fluff, no action but what's in their heads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is staying home (as possible) and staying safe.

“Linda, he wrote me back. He said I was his first pen pal. What a boring thing to be first at.”

“Chloe, what do you mean?”

“I’m first at dry, dull paperwork with him, not a fun thing, like, like, sex or music or fancy food.” Chloe fusses.

“Chloe, Lucifer doesn’t find you boring in the slightest. Much of our sessions were spent his trying to understand his reaction to you and yours to him.”

“I wrote paragraphs and he wrote one sentence answers.”

Linda sighs, “I suppose you will have to find the truth for yourself.”

Chloe contemplates her options to convey to Lucifer her transformation from a cold day in Hell to a sultry night in his bed.

What could I send that’s not boring to Lucifer? Don’t think Azrael wants to be responsible for liquor in its breakable bottle. The other pleasure Lucifer loves the most is sex. Why’d I have to think of that? Isn’t it enough I dream of him and I together, awake or asleep? If I wrote that to Lucifer, wouldn’t we all be surprised how motivated he would become? Lucifer, with his really strong flight response from paperwork, finding a passion important enough to become a premier researcher.

I’ll just drop hints to Lucifer about my desires, even with our kiss at the beach, he was oblivious but now that I admitted I love him, maybe this time it will be different.

Dearest Lucifer,

Wednesday

With some of your money, I purchased new furniture for the beach house. I also bought some new clothes, just for relaxing there. Maze showed me the website where she buys her outfits. Trixie has invited friends for a beach party this weekend. I hope the woman who owned the house before is horrified by the idea of the little hooligans running about on ‘her’ beach. We bought Monopoly and other games to play there. I think Linda might label this retail therapy. I’m trying to buy substitutes for your company. But there aren’t any, all the things I bought don’t hold my attention long.

Midnight Friday

Trixie and her friends had a wonderful time at the beach house today. The whole house smells like sunscreen. Preventing them from getting sunburnt made me think of your Devil form. Does that damaged skin hurt Lucifer? I’ve read as part of my prophecy research that you fell all that long way.

I bought aloe and other lotion for you and I’ll keep them at the beach house in case you turn up there. I’ve tried the lotion, its called ‘Sand and Stars.’ It made me miss you more. You are still with me in my dreams after I slathered on the lotion.

Prophecy hunting is difficult work without you here. Your confession mojo skills would have come in handy with some of my reluctant sources. Lucifer, hurry and find the clue we need so you can come home, here to me.

I’ve typed up the notes from my prophecy hunting for you to review.

Sunday afternoon

A few moments of peace, back at the apartment, to write you. Trixie has gone to her classmate’s house to finish their project. They are completing a report on birds and how they fly. I thought of your white wings, that I glimpsed when you left. I hope its okay that I want to touch them. I wondered if they tickle, like bird feathers can, if you brushed those big wings over me. Speaking of brushes, its back to the kitchen for me, to tackle the lunch dishes with the scrub brush ‘cause they don’t clean themselves.

The tenderly folded reply Lucifer secreted in his pants pocket safe from prying eyes in Hell

My fearless love,

New play house, new furniture. What happened to you, and in my absence? A vacation home, new clothes, potentially from from an exotic catalogue! I hope you bought sturdy furniture and flimsy clothes. Do you know the thought of you in revealing beach wear both distracts me and has me more dedicated to escape Hell? All at the same time. I can barely process one emotion at a time, what am I supposed to do with two? And without Linda. After the early days of our partnership, I tried to train myself to stop mentioning you and I in intimate situations. The connection you offered me as a friend was so new and precious to me I did not want to spoil it with overtures to which you objected.

No one has ever thought enough of me to wonder if the Fall still hurts. If anyone can ameliorate those wounds, it would be you, the only one who comprehends how much pain they represent to me. You’ve given me, ~~the experienced Devil~~ , new ideas for daydreaming of you and I together. With lotion, Lucifer likes.

You may touch any part of me you like, as soon as I wash off the soot and and grime, let us call it. Well, that did it, itchy wings remind me I’m still here without you. Back to the throne for me, those demons won’t punish themselves.

The reply he sent

Dearest Detective,

I hope you spent a lot of my money on the furniture you purchased. Purchase anything you or the Spawn like.

Finding more of the prophecy is constantly on my mind. I examined your notes, imagine, me studying the deets of a case. Rae should have delivered to you my scrolls regarding the potential clues I found here. Your attention to detail skills would have come in useful here.

Feel free to hire someone to tend to the dirty dishes on my dime.

Your partner in crime (solving), Lucifer

My Darling Lucifer,

I purchased a piano for the beach home. Trixie and I are taking lessons. I’ve started with finger exercises to warm up to playing. Really, I want to play with you. When you come back, could you teach me some new songs?

I miss my partner. Hopefully, when you return, I will be able to play duets with you, now that my fingers are more limber. You may still have to be patient with me when we make music again.

I solved some of my nighttime restlessness by simply watching the day turn to dusk and then dark. Once, I sun bathed on the beach while watching the sun set over the ocean. It was a multi colored sunset. A gold sky, with fire orange mounds, waves lapping. It was a picture perfect evening. To rinse the sand off, I took a hot shower in the huge tub.

Days go by and still I think of you,

Chloe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And still I think of you, whisper on my lips – Days go by – Dirty Vegas
> 
> Monopoly credit to Hasbro
> 
> Comparisons of Lucifer’s wings to birds – many of the wonderful writers here
> 
> Thermos as an object celestials use to transport important items and Agnes Nutter – Good Omens
> 
> Thanks to everyone leaving comments or kudos or just checking out this fic, I’m inspired


	6. Whisper on My Lips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prophecy tidbit - Boots don't conceal just guns and knives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The letters you don't send are the most important.

Sewn into the lining of his jacket pocket, Lucifer’s response to Chloe’s letters

My Daring Detective,

I want to play with you also. Finger exercises. Detective, you are cruel. Nothing in Hell is any where close to that much fun. Its my every fantasy to teach you new songs, both on the piano and in harmony with me. My imagination creates many new duets for us. Love, for you are my fearless love, your hints of intimacy are the best thing ever to happen to me. I’ve never had even this much pleasure in Hell, a chance to daydream that someone wants me to return to them. It’s a gift you give all the time, to me, who deserves it not at all. Darling, I seemed impatient about my pleasures on earth because I’ve had to cram them all into the few days Amenadiel would allow me topside. Then, centuries in Hell, misery, ash and demonic destruction. Down here, decades go by for me, and still I think of you.

The sun, ocean and sand seem but distant wisps of dream. Only your letters counter more loneliness than any man could bear.

Chloe, don’t stop writing me. Otherwise, the past four years with you is unbelievable to me. Darling, rescue me before I fall into despair.

Your desperate Devil

P.S. In case this message reaches you somehow, Chloe, I sent you the short, practical responses because even the hints of your longing for me tempts me (the irony of that, I know) to abandon my post. This, I must not do until such time as we understand the complete prophecy and figure a way to keep the demons locked in Hell, away from you and Charlie. I’m restless continuously, for the sight of you, brighter than the sun. Your name is the unvoiced whisper on my lips.

*Back on earth*

“Chloe, its so romantic what you wrote Lucifer. Especially when you know you can’t reach him,” Ella gushes.

“Its only a whisper on my lips, written at the beach, watching the sun set. By myself,” Chloe sighs.

“Its so beautiful, to quote song lyrics to him. Lucifer is so into music, he would love that. Your research into old prophecies has made it into the letters also, sometimes you sound like Agnes Nutter, with her weird rhymes,” Ella observes. “Gotta run, my dessert creations class is making protein pudding tonight.”

After Ella leaves, Amenadiel asks Chloe “May I see Lucifer’s letters to you?”

“I don’t think he’d like that, why?” Chloe knows Lucifer would want to have a choice in the matter, at least.

“Because I think you may be exchanging prophecy tidbits in your letters, with the song phrases.”

“How could that be?”

Amenadiel demands, “What lyrics exactly, Chloe, do you write back and forth with Lucifer?”

“He knows so many songs, I’m not sure what are lyrics and which is simply what he writes. He wouldn’t like you reading his letters to me, but you could look at the letter I’m writing Lucifer now.” Chloe offers, thrusting the letter at him in hopes it will distract Amenadiel. (Don’t want him to guess about the ones I’m trying to hide, even from myself. Boots don’t conceal just guns and knives. No one needs to know what I write to him when my restlessness wakes me up).

*The letter rustling in her boot*

Darling Lucifer,

I received all your intel about crimes in LA., straight from the sources. Some of the cases were mine and thanks to you, I am keeping my solve rate up. Without you here, its bittersweet. Entirely worth it. I saw your handwriting, and knew you thought of me. On the cases not mine, but the precinct’s, I’ve made suggestions. Its been an odd way to find out who’s ambition outweighs his distrust of me. And who is so filled with contempt that they won’t consider my suggestions, no matter what. With the clues you sent outside the precinct, I have dropped anonymous hints. Its very satisfying to me to see criminals get caught, even if I don’t get credit for the capture.

I’m so glad you are still my partner. Your letters and the clues in them help pass the time til you can return to me. Lucifer, there has to be a way to solve the case of the unfinished prophecy, together. And afterward, maybe, more than partners. I’ve fantasized our reunion from so many different angles. If it were a movie, our erratic relationship would generate so many fan fics. I’ve dreamed of you, popping up in the middle of a case, just as I did to you. Without the misguided agenda, of course. Sometimes, when I’m walking into the penthouse at Lux, I wonder if I will surprise you sleeping or showering off the grime of Hell. I’d like to help with that, if you will have me. And bring comfort to your heart and soul.

Sometimes, I wonder if you will arrive distraught, only this time I will know you are not talking in metaphors, but describing what you actually experienced. Will you show up at my door, with suffering only I can abate?

Or will you show up in triumph, with those amazing white wings spread. Lucifer, sometimes I long for you, trailing those feathers over my body. Really, though, I don’t care how you appear and whether you have wings or not.

I’m writing to you, just for you. Not for the wings, or the eggs. Come on, that was slightly funny.

I’ve tried not to daydream about a romantic reunion. That way, we can stay connected as friends and partners in case I’m not sophisticated enough for you in a physical relationship.

I whisper your name to the stars you created, hoping for the sight of you.

*Outside the boot*

Amenadiel scans the informational letter Chloe had proffered, nodding periodically. When he looks up from reading the letter, Chloe encourages, “I give you permission to read all the letters I sent Lucifer, if its okay with him.”

“I’ll go down to Hell and do that, and ask if I can read the ones he sent you.” Amenadiel takes one long hurried stride towards a launch site.

“Oh, wait, you have to take him something. He’d be so disappointed if he didn’t get a letter from me.”

Chloe gathers Trixie’s most recent drawings, stuffing them in one of the thermoses she had bought just for letters to him, along with the daily notes she had been writing to Lucifer.

She adds a hurried postscript to her unfinished letter,

Darling,

I write this part of the letter in haste. A thinks we may be writing prophecy phrases in our letters. I have let him read this group of letters I wrote to you. He wants to read the other letters I wrote you and I think that’s a great idea for the truths he might be able to glean. Let him know if its okay for him to read the letters you sent me. Days go by, and still I think of you.

All my love,

Chloe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moldavite – Ancient Aliens on the History Channel. If you ever need an out of the box idea for a story, watch an episode.  
> Whisper on My Lips - Days go by - Dirty Vegas  
> Agnes Nutter - Good Omens  
> Chloe's reunion fantasies - many awesome writers here
> 
> Thanks everyone who read, commented, or gave me kudos. I'm really grateful and my muse is super charged.


	7. Me, Write Prophecy?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amenadiel plays messenger pigeon and Deckerstar cheerleader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The cracks inside

Lucifer looks up at the sound of mighty wings. He pays little attention to the limping demons cowering to the rocky ground, afraid that the first father angel will be punishing them for their indiscretions on earth and against his child.

Biting his tongue hard, Lucifer watches his brother’s approach closely. There is a large, metal thermos in Amenadiel’s hands, the kind in which letters from Chloe arrive. (Don’t be a jackass, don’t be a jackass. If you pick a fight with Amenadiel out of your despair, the letters might get damaged in the fray. As those thermoses travel back and forth thru dimensions, they become brittle from the heat.) 

Lucifer fiddles with his shirt cuffs, trying not to convey his desperation for the papers in the other angel’s hands to his brother. Amenadiel smiles knowingly, and hands him the top letter unbidden.

The paper rattles in Lucifer’s hand as he reads Chloe’s hastily written postscript.

“Me, write prophecy? How ironic would that be?” Lucifer raises a hand to his face. “Why do you think this?”

Amenadiel’s voice is soft in response to the strain in his brother’s. “A prophecy is often lyrical, like song. I know Chloe has immersed herself in the study of prophecy, til her speech often sounds like something from previous eras. She told me you are researching what else Kinley and his followers might have discovered, direct from the source.” 

Lucifer swallows, then clears his throat, “You can read the letters. And the notes I made on Kinley’s babbling, for all the good it will do any of us. Will you come to my quarters? We can concentrate there.”

Amenadiel nods.

In Lucifer’s Hell office, Amenadiel reviews Chloe’s letters to Lucifer. 

“Luci, are you sure I should be reading this letter? Its slightly? Intimate.”

“Fancy that. You and I agree. Slightly. Intimate. Wasn’t sure til about the hundredth reading of that letter. There are hints in the next few also. Then, she thought the better of it.”

“Luci, did you respond with equal intimacy?”

“No, Amenadiel, why give her hope only to destroy it?”

“Coward.”

“That too. Stop laughing, no one is happy in Hell.” Lucifer whacks his brother on the shoulder.

“Luci, you are an idiot.” Amenadiel shakes his head, angels in love. “Write her back. Borrow some ancient poet’s words if you have to.”

Lucifer scoffs, no poet, however loquacious, could write words that accurately reflected the Devil’s amazement at Chloe’s longing for his company.

After returning to Earth, Amenadiel visits Chloe to deliver the scrolls from Lucifer. “Chloe, Lucifer gave permission for me to examine the missives he sent you. We should look at them together so you can share your responses, which may be tidbits of prophecy.”

“Me, write prophecy? How ironic would that be? After filling out all those dreary police forms, being sure to fill in all the boxes, now you think I’m writing and participating in words that will influence the actions of angels.”

“Chloe, you were the first one to point out that Kinley’s version of the prophecy was too short. Your research into the particulars helped me see that there had to be more to all of this. No true prophet ever felt confident of their ability to convey the full meaning of predictions about the future,” Amenadiel explains, trying to reassure her she is as capable as anyone to unravel the clues to a complete prophecy.

“But I’m just writing song lyrics back and forth with him. Why would you think that I can discern prophecy?” Chloe objects to Amenadiel’s conclusions.

“Chloe, you wrote Lucifer a note, indicating that you believed me when I said that you and he were writing prophecy phrases. What changed for you?”

“I’ve had time to think about the absurdity of plain Jane Chloe Decker, Miss focus on the case, suddenly deciphering ideas that will influence not just an angel’s destiny, but perhaps the fate of millions of souls. Souls, Amenadiel, when not much more than a year ago, I didn’t believe in Hell, Heaven or stories from the Bible. How could song lyrics be prophecy anyway?” Chloe demanded.

“Prophecies often have rhythm to them. Besides, you are a miracle, Chloe. Who knows what you are capable of, especially in regard to Lucifer,” Amenadiel reminds Chloe of her special status, having imparted a lot of celestial knowledge to her while she was missing Lucifer.

Trixie pipes up with a question, “Mommy, why does this thermos from Lucifer have cracks inside?”

After peering inside the thermos, Amenadiel answers, “As the thermos goes thru the dimensions, it becomes hot enough for vitrification, like moldavite o,o,or like the sand under a nuclear test becomes something called trinitite, a glass created from the extreme heat of the explosion.”

“What’s moldavite?”

Chloe, ever the investigator, notices Amenadiel’s stricken, then embarrassed look and cautious glance towards her daughter.

“Trixie, go find another thermos for me, please and your pictures to put in it.” When her daughter is out of earshot, Chloe demands, “Confess, Amenadiel, what is moldavite?”

“Just before Lucifer Fell, Michael chopped a jewel out of his crown. It became a meteorite from the heat of uncontrolled descent, bits landing in what you call Bohemia. Lucifer followed it down, but passed through, plummeting all the way to Hell,” Amenadiel explains.

“OH my, my, MY. Lucifer endured the same temperatures as a meteorite. That’s the cau,cause of the bbburns and other injuries.” Chloe blinks away the moisture in her eyes.

Trixie comes bounding back with another thermos, “Look, Mommy, I found a Yeti the exact same color of the old thermos for you so Lucifer will know its messages from us.” She places the thermos on the counter. “Amenadiel, why are you sad to take our letters to Lucifer?”

“I’m not sad to take your letters, little one,” Amenadiel wipes his face on his sleeve.

“Whoosh, crack.” At the sound, Amenadiel and Chloe both jump and Trixie runs for the window.

“That’s wings! Could Lucifer be back?” Chloe glances at the entrance to her home, eagerly anticipating her front door to swing open, despite it being locked.

Amenadiel shakes his head, “Quick, stuff the papers in. That’s Azrael, close, and her passenger is definitely headed for Hell.” Amenadiel tips the thermos towards Chloe, who spins towards the table, grabbing her letters to Lucifer. As Amenadiel strides towards the door, she stuffs the documents in the thermos he is carrying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moldavite – Ancient Aliens on the History Channel. If you ever need an out of the box idea for a story, watch an episode.
> 
> Literary license - Winged beings recognize each other's flight signature, just like you know whose coming up the creaky stairs in your house.


	8. Some Kind of Way Out of Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More letters arrive in Hell, but there is a delivery mishap. Escape options are revealed, but at what cost?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More whoosh crack and back to the Beach

***Tantalus' Section of Hell***

“Let go of that bottle you ridiculous swot. Its not for you or about you. Your Judgement already happened you idiot, you can’t change which list you are on.”

Lucifer shoots a sharp glance upward at Azrael’s frantic tone.

“No, stop, don’t bust it open!” The shattering of fragile metal and cracking glass echoes through Hell.

At Azrael’s squealing from high above, Lucifer takes off from a lower level of Hell. He snatches at papers, delicately fluttering through the air, ever downward, towards the sulky, scheming demons, incinerating lava flows, and deep, unnavigable crevasses. 

When he spots the guilty soul snatching at Azrael’s feathers, Lucifer lets go of his hope on paper and flies to his sister’s aid. 

“Tell me this one knows nothing of prophecy, so I can start his Hell loop right at the guilt part immediately.” Lucifer grates, shaking the guilty specter.

Azrael pants, “Let the demons moan at him of soul strangling decisions between medicine and food, or medicine and rent. He is one of the people responsible for the misery of medication price increases that benefited only his lifestyle.”

Lucifer speeds his flight to Big Pharma’s Hell loop. He knows he is changing into the red, burned monster from the cringing of the demons beneath him. Also, there is the challenge of maintaining steady flight while shifting from feathers to bat wings. One of Chloe’s still floating letters lands on a demon, rather than the heated lava ground. Lucifer booms, commanding, “Stay still,” as he swoops to rescue the letter. His Big Pharma passenger is scraped, bleeding and bruised from contact with the rocky, hot Hell surface. Lucifer laughs, harshly, “Now you can experience the Hell you put all those patients through. The medicine you need to heal will be on the shelves, but you will never be able to afford it. Welcome to Tantalus’ section of Hell.” Lucifer flings his passenger into his Hell loop, grinning gleefully as he slams into the rocky ground like a flat rock skips across the water.

Lucifer circles in the air, still clutching the letter. He flies past Azrael, both snatching at the few still floating papers. Once no more letters are in the air, Lucifer looks to his sister, knowing that she had rescued some (not enough, never enough) of the floating missives from the Detective. He does not approach her mid-air, her wide eyed stare indicates to him that she is reacting to his appearance in full Devil form.

Lucifer hovers in place, not wanting to panic his sister, holding some of the precious Detective notes.

“Lu, whaaat happened to you?”

“I Fell. Through dimensions, then a Stygian Santa Ana conflagration flung me about in the stinging ashy air until I impacted into the molten lava and serrated brimstone. A hard landing,” Lucifer gnarls.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Is there anything I can do for you?” Azrael starts to gesture towards Lucifer.

“Don’t drop the letters!” his desperation reverberates through Hell.

“Right.” Azrael clutches them closer.

“In my quarters, then, there’s surfaces where you can put the letters and they won’t be instantly incinerated.” Lucifer tips his head to indicate the direction to his lair.

“Aren’t you coming big brother?”

“Don’t want to terrify you further.”

“Lu, you are still my brother, no matter what form you take.”

“Ah, well then, this way,” as he zooms alongside his sister.

While flying towards his quarters, Azrael asks her brother, “What changes you?”

“Amenadiel thinks I do it to myself. That an, an angel’s,” if Lucifer had an eyebrow in Devil form, it would be going up sardonically _,_ “ _appearance is influenced by how they feel about themselves_.”

“You are not feeling so good right now, are ya?”

“No, ‘pparently me personally abusing the guilty is off the table.”

As they land at the entrance to Lucifer’s quarters, the angels are met by a half dozen demons, all prostrate on their stomachs, with papers on their backs.

Lucifer bends down to pick up the letters, “Thanks slimeballs.”

“Lu, you changed back. No more bat wings.”

“Never thought I’d happy to see the feathery menaces again, but here we are.”

“Lu, maybe an escape from Hell is something you need to have faith in as well.”

Lucifer whispers, “You really believe there must be some kind of way out of here, for me.” 

“yes, Lu, I do. We just have to find it.”

***Back to the Beach***

Crouched inside a seaside vendor tent in the dark, Chloe whispers to herself, “There must be some kind of way out of here. That I don’t get shot by friendly fire, or entrapped by the perps.” She continues in her thoughts, “how did I get in this fix? Besides forgetting I’m no longer working with a celestial being, able to use inhuman strength to get me out of a jam when I miscalculate.” Chloe runs her fingers under her shirt, checking for the bullet necklace she tucked under it, so the glitter would not give away her position to the suspects she is tracking.

Chloe sighs, ‘These two, whose bumbling resulted in the death of their dealer, might injure me just with their clumsiness. Like being collateral damage in a Three Stooges movie. The unis are circling around too, the last thing we need is a gun battle where no one can see their target. The third Stooge is dead already. As if we don’t have enough trouble already, this area of the beach is flooding from the sea rise caused by all the rain and storm surge from this out of season (out of this world?) Pineapple Express.

The endless fog has all the nuts believing that the sky is falling.

Should I be looking for Lucifer? Or am I so obsessed with finding the rest of the prophecy that I will see indications of its elements anywhere?

I researched the moldavite Amenadiel mentioned for any trace of how to bring Lucifer back, safely for all of us. 

Such lovely green stones, but I could see how painful the Fall must have been for Lucifer. They say the stones are in the shape of droplets, but all I saw were tears. The bubbles and flow lines within the stones show how violent and sudden it all must have been. How terrifying for Lucifer, all that pain along with the uncertainty of not knowing if the plummet would ever end.

Focus, Decker, focus. First, you need to figure out your options for escape, not daydream about Lucifer’s return. He did say to look for him, tumbling out of the sky if it fell. But would he be injured again? He never seems to anticipate that he could get hurt. I need to not get hurt here, one thing we don’t want to do is have Lucifer return to earth before we understand the prophecy completely.

Why have those idiots separated? And what was that odd whirring noise, the whoosh of metal spinning thru the air and crack, like a rope snapping taut?

***Blue Devil in Hell***

Yes, Squee, you idiot, I want to question every soul coming from California. Just keep them lined up, away from the rooms where they will experience their Hell loops.

(at least this way, I can keep track of the date on Earth. Its not like Rae knows or ‘Menadiel has shown up recently and these damned souls tell me the Santa Ana winds are blowing, so its most likely late summer. Have they forgotten me already? Could be years have past topside and I don’t know it. I’m gonna skip all these people and question the most recent arrival.)

Stalking towards the very back of the line, Lucifer overhears one imbecilic soul gripping to another, “and my stupid buyers got me killed trying to evade Hot Tub cop. Boy, is she in for a surprise. The drugs I tested on them will hop them up into thinking they’ve got super strength. They plan to circle around and turn her into the hunted.”

“Where?” booms Lucifer, in the Hulk sized raspy Devil voice, but white wings out, there’s a Detective to serve.

“M, m, marina. Where UFO’ers hang out, because people report aircraft with feathers painted on flying over the beach.”

Squee objects, “What about the prophecy, my lord?”

“Nascent prophecy be da, not damned, I won’t damn something that involves Chloe. Fortune telling will just have to catch up with me, if it can.”

With that, Lucifer launches from the Pit, the Detective is in danger, without HER super strength partner. The unwelcome wings are the way out of here. Dad shouldn’t have given them back if He didn’t want Lucifer using them to protect the Detective, again. So what if he is detected in the air. He will probably be mistaken for a plane, not the first time that’s happened to an angel over Los Angeles. He’d laughed at Amenadiel’s outrage at being mistaken for aircraft and then shot at. Lucifer hadn’t battled his brother to prevent that return to Hell, California at war was all seriousness and no fun.

Lucifer lands at his usual spot on the beach, unsure how much time had passed between the guilty soul’s death and now. He folds his luminous wings away, don’t want to draw attention to himself til he understands the situation more clearly. His night sight is ineffective in the thick fog, like clouds come to earth. Is that blinking blue light the crime scene, or UFOers trying to catch sight of flying objects? Perhaps some miscreant has holed up in the beach vendor tents, with the unis in pursuit. The Detective would not be here, much too obvious. Concentrating on moving swiftly through the foggy night, Lucifer trips over the debris next to a tent left by partygoers. He catches a hanging rope to prevent his fall, but what is that pricking sensation on the palm of his hand. Was that some demon forged rope? Lucifer brings a hand up to his face to examine, blood oozes from his stinging palm. How is this possible? Only one way he knows of, Chloe. Must be near.

He stiffens into a hunting posture, this will be fun. Find the Detective, vanquish her quarry currently encircling her, all without being accidentally shot by the unis. No one, even the Devil himself, can see clearly thru the fog, to add extra challenge. Hard to scent the Detective too, here at the beach and his clothes still reeking of brimstone and despair. Have to hope the sunshine fragrance unique to Chloe will leave a trace strong enough for him to follow. And, what’s that clatter, certainly not the stealthy Detective or other law enforcement?

Listening carefully, Lucifer moves in the direction of the racket, knowing that drugged humans are often clumsy. If they actually succeed in encircling her, then he need only get between them to find the Detective. Lucifer slips under the flap of the largest tent and sniffs. Ah, the scent of humans on stimulants, he has found the miscreants he seeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone along for the ride, staying at home or braving the wild as an essential worker.
> 
> All along the watchtower, cover by Tom Ellis, origin Bob Dylan  
> Tantalus is from Greek myth.  
> Having the ‘blue devils’ means someone is melancholy  
> Lucifer desiring to ‘serve’ Chloe a fic here by sonicenvy
> 
> Angels mistaken for UFOs. I mixed fic writing and watching the Battle of Los Angeles as portrayed by Ancient Aliens (History Channel) with wine and here we are. If you are familiar with the areas of California in question, please put down any inaccuracies to artistic license and I’ll buy you a round at Lux.  
> If the timing of events seem off, its because time moves differently in Hell (That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.)


	9. The Weather Started Getting Rough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Projectiles, reunions, fast boats, Lucifer holds a baby, letters unknowingly sent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get a wiggle on and winged escapades
> 
> Credits at the end

Lucifer launches from crouch to flying, determined to block the grappling hook hurtling through the air from tearing into Chloe. He stretches an arm out – thwack. That’s the sound when he forcibly restrained suspects, is this the disagreeable sensation felt by miscreants handled roughly? The ripping sound, well, another suit sacrificed to the Detective’s safety. The sensation of pain down his arm, one of the sharp hooks must have caught more than the fabric of the suit. In a last second effort to prevent the inevitable projectile from impacting Chloe, Lucifer had grabbed the end of one hook and tumbled through the air in a somersault. Wings tucked in tight to his body to facilitate the mid air acrobatics. Great, here I am again, lying on the floor, incapacitated in front of her. Laying on my side, wings partially out, very odd. 

“Ummphh.” I’ll take odd, here is the Detective, lying alongside me, one well muscled leg over mine. Gentle fingers on my mouth, ahhh, I’m supposed to stay quiet. Might be a challenge, that. I’d like to be communicating my pleasure in this position to her. I’ll kiss her fingers laying on my lips, so she knows. I think Chloe must be alright, that was a very deep breath she took and exhaled. And now, the most delicate kiss ever on my neck. This trip out of Hell only to be taken down by sharp projectile is officially worth it.

She’s raised her head away from me now, what _is_ all that commotion, guaranteed to separate us? Mmmm, she’s shifting, oh that’s delicious. I know she is not trying to encourage my response to her. Usually, visits to earth, first it’s a shower, then clothes, then finding miscellaneous beautiful people. This time, the only one I truly want has literally landed on top of me and now she is breathing in my ear. Focus, Morningstar, focus, the Detective is still in danger if her tenseness and all the noise around us are any indication. She has taken another deep breath near my ear, dare I hope she will let it out there as well. Nope, I’m still allowed a taste but never the drink, wasting her breath talking, as usual. Now she has wriggled again, well, I don’t think Chloe was anticipating finding me hardening under her.

“Lucssifer,” ah, she is impatient, but not the fun way. If that admonishing hiss is any indication.

“We need to catch them, before any one else does. Stupid drug dealers’ bosses are closing in on them, along with LAPD, DEA, who doesn’t know I’m here, and the UFO’ers, who think they saw ooo, one.” Chloe strokes one feathery wing. “they saw you?”

“Fraid so.” Great, now I’m wincing in pain from a simple shrug needed to put the wings away. If she wishes to give chase, I need to untangle myself from the grappling hook.

“Careful, careful,” Chloe cautions as they sit up and Lucifer twists to remove the hook from his arm, further shredding his suit jacket.

“Drat, they’re escaping,” Chloe complains.

Lucifer throws the grappling hook and captures both degenerates. He rises and stalks to them, red flashing in his eyes. Chloe scrambles after, catching up to Lucifer, who with his uninjured arm is lifting perp one into the air. He turns red eyes on the other one, who slides to the ground with an inelegant whoomp.

“Lucifer, stop.”

“Detective, they intended to harm you. Why should I not make them an example for every other miscreant?” Lucifer demands.

“I need information from them.” Chloe remonstrates.

“What! is more important than your safety?” an exasperated Lucifer grinds out.

“They know the course set on the boat where the drug dealer stashed his rival gang...”

Shaking his head, Lucifer interrupts Chloe mid sentence, “Detective, let the rival gang be lost at sea.”

Chloe stomps her booted foot, “The rival gang’s leader baby son.”

“Bloody Hell.” Lucifer, eyes glinting red, stares at his captured suspect, still dangling in mid air. “You tell the Detective what she wishes to know, and swiftly.”

After the suspects confess all, Chloe and Lucifer run down the pier, looking for the fastest boat.

“Lucifer, we have to find keys.” Chloe pants.

“Not necessary, Detective, I can turn anything on. With the exception of yourself, of course.”

“Mmmmph.”

He sprints ahead of her down the pier, jumping from dock to mid deck with superhuman strength. Racing to the bridge, Lucifer starts the boat motor. 

“Get a wiggle on, Detective, the weather started getting rough.”

Chloe climbs into the boat, unloosing the moorings.

They launch their shanghaied ship into the storm, hoping to catch up to the unmanned baby bearing boat. As Lucifer steers, Chloe communicates with the Coast Guard as they sail out to sea. 

He uses the information Chloe gathers to choose his course, fussing about the fog causing him to have to use the equipment to steer instead of his knowledge of the stars.

After finding and boarding the unmanned boat, they rush down to the cabin. Crying leads them to the baby, damp diaper, but otherwise unharmed. The pitch and roll of the ship keeps them aware that they have sailed into the edges of the storm. Because of the rough seas, they ignore the bank bags of cash. Through the wail of the wind, the chop chop of approaching helicopter blades can be heard. Baby snuggled in her arms, Chloe rushes up the stairs, Lucifer with one arm around her to assist her in keeping her balance.

One brave first responder dangles from the end of the rescue rope, reaching out to hoist the baby to safety. Because of the gusty, high winds, his buddies in the helicopter are drawing him back up towards the chopper before he can safely scoop the baby out of Chloe’s grasp.

“Bloody Hell,” Lucifer cusses thru the wind. “Give me the baby, Detective.”

Chloe transfers the baby into Lucifer’s arms. After a calculating (just what will Dad’s reaction be to this winged escapade?) glance skyward, Lucifer leaps into the wind, towards the ascending rescue swimmer and passes the baby to him.

Eyes glued on Lucifer flying towards the helicopter, Chloe spots a red dot, mixed with the rainfall. Is Lucifer bleeding, no the dot is spiraling downwards, not the way liquid would. Is it blood on a feather, descending towards her? No, it’s a red dot on a paper. Expensive paper, the kind on which Lucifer pens his letters to her. Gazing upwards the entire time, Chloe grabs the scroll shoving it in her pants pocket.

When Lucifer lands on the deck, he staggers a little as a large wave rocks the boat, wings flapping to maintain his balance.

“Lucifer, they saw your wings.” Chloe worries. “I thought your Dad objected to proof of divinity.”

“Not to worry, Detective, they will simply create a more believable explanation for what happened. Everyone does.” Lucifer concludes, on a sigh. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part B (lol)
> 
> Sorry for the long pause between chapters. My perfectionist streak and my editing muse conspired to convince me there was a plot line correction needed, but were not specific about location.  
> The weather started getting rough – Gilligan’s Island theme
> 
> Allowed a taste, but never the drink – Tantalus and no one is to blame by Howard Jones
> 
> First responders and all our medical peeps, we can’t say thanks enough for your bravery and commitment


	10. Just for You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deckerstar romance is like your favorite show - was it cancelled or renewed, again and again. Stranded on a deserted isle. Plenty of time to read those letters unsent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all the readers who left comments and kudos. I'm energized by your interest.
> 
> Musical suggestions - Just for You by Devil Side, Creep by Radiohead cover Tom Ellis

Drenched and cold, Chloe guides Lucifer away from the destroyed dock, where the ship finally ran aground. She continues to hold his hand, his shivering worrisome to her. Lucifer yells over the wind, “Glad to be done with that flimsy boat, Detective, but what is next? Never been stranded on a deserted isle b, before.” Is Lucifer cold, Hell is reputed to be very hot? Are his injuries more severe than either of them realize? And have those injuries they were unable to attend to gotten worse during the long, stress filled voyage on that tiny ship? Lucifer might not be able to judge the damage from the grappling hook because of his unfamiliarity with being physically hurt. There is still no opportunity to assess his injuries, they need to hurry out of the cold, howling downpour that pushed them to the island.

Her partner’s condition is very different from when they first found the boat. Chloe remembers Lucifer racing excitedly down the pier ahead of her, searching for a speedy, reliable boat. He’d been so concentrated on finding appropriate transportation that he missed the flattened scroll dropping out of his ripped jacket. Chloe, still on the run, had scooped up the paper, shoving it in her pants pocket, hoping Lucifer had written down more clues to the prophecy.

“Do you know where we are going, D,detective?” a drenched Lucifer sputters.

“This is the place where they are filming “Leave it to Leslie – stranded on a tropical island.” Chloe shouts to Lucifer, over the roaring wind, “Trixie watches it enough that I can lead us to the cave pictured on the overhead shots. Hopefully, they also still store supplies there.”

Chloe is encouraged by Lucifer’s nodding as he hurries alongside her, leaning in close to protect her from the whipping winds. She’s comforted by his familiar stance, body inclined towards her, as if she is the most important thing in existence. If she’s going to continue quintessential Deckerstar, Chloe knows she should give Lucifer information about the scene that he will seem to ignore, but later becomes integral to solving the case. She reminisces, “I’ve been here before, during the filming of one of my mother’s movies. They were also shooting one of those ‘California falls into the sea’ prophecy docudramas.” Chloe rolls her eyes.

“’Tective, are those available on Netflix?” Lucifer modulates his tone to accommodate the suddenly lessening racket, signaling a calmer wind.

“Yep,” Chloe realizes grinning, quintessential Deckerstar indeed, Lucifer turns information gathering for a case to amusement researching for him. The weather contributes to her cheerfulness also, wind dying down rapidly, and a less intense rain accompanied by lightening sky.

Once they enter the cave opening, its obvious the cast and crew left the island in a hurry. Within the storage area Chloe predicted, all the electronics and communication gear has been removed, along with irreplaceable props. The items left behind are in great disarray, packing crates askew and left open, half used tape rolls, metal shelving left half empty. The gauzy materials meant to convey life in the tropics are heaped in untidy piles. More practical packing blankets peek out here and there in the chaos. In one heap, Chloe spots outdoor firepits from the show, complete with illusion crumbling electric cords in a tangle. Packing popcorn crunches under their feet as they walk through the bug out debris.

Chloe steers Lucifer to sit on a crate, cupping his face to encourage him to focus on her, “Stay put, I’ll look in the gym and changing rooms for dry clothing. And hopefully something that smells better too. Sulfur and seawater combined reeks.” Her nose wrinkles, he shivers again, looking distressed.

Only the so called native tropical gear has been left behind. Chloe shakes her head, all this lightweight, flimsy clothing will do them little good in an effort to get dry and warm. She explores further in the cave, finding gym and dressing rooms. In these, she discovers warmer clothes and returns to Lucifer, wrapping bits around him. Because he looks so out of it, she caresses his face each time, trying to reassure him. Chloe sighs, as usual for them, she makes overtures and he responds with aborted gestures. To her, it seems he shivers like a frightened pet. His arms jerk, as if starting to reach towards her, but never finish the action. She wonders why, but there’s too much practical to accomplish to let her attention wander down that unproductive path. 

Rummaging in cabinets and bins in the dressing rooms, Chloe finds kapa lengths, Hawaiian cloth meant as tropical bedding in the show. Because Leave it to Leslie is a show geared to young girls, all the fabric is twin bed sized. Great, now she has to decide how obvious to be about their sleeping situation. And what, exactly, does she want? Pondering that, she grabs a pair of stretchy, dry water shoes to replace the water logged boots.

To accomplish something besides fretting, Chloe strips off her dripping, clammy clothes in the changing room of the gym. After yanking off her boots, she puts on a skimpy costume left behind, then wraps up in the kapa. Not wanting to get the dry items wet, Chloe leaves her clothes and boots behind in a damp pile. 

_Need to get back to Lucifer with dry things_.

After gathering men’s clothes, she hopes will fit Lucifer, Chloe takes the clothing and the wraps to him. A shivering Devil has his back to her, attempting to pull thicker blankets out of the mess, but spins around towards her as soon as he hears her footsteps. Chloe wonders why Lucifer lights up when he sees her, but then draws back.

UP Down, UP Down, like a roller coaster with no end. Or safety gear. Like waiting to see if your favorite show was cancelled or renewed, again and again.

“I’m going to look for food next. Change into dry clothes while I’m gone.” Chloe instructs as she takes the materials she scrounged for him out of the gym bag.

Expecting a remark about needing her assistance to strip, Chloe is worried by Lucifer’s low voiced agreement, “Of course, Detective.”

She looks down, and sees damp, dark hair. Irresistible, fluffy locks, product free. Chloe reaches out, just one gentle touch to find out if Lucifer’s hair is soft as it looks won’t hurt anyone, will it? Slowly, hoping he won’t jerk away, Chloe strokes the side of his head, right over his ear, freeing the curls. He shudders in response.

“That’s more warming than any amount of dry clothes,” Lucifer rasps. He comments cheekily, “You could help with the removal of the wet clothes, if you wanted.”

At Lucifer’s return to suggestive, experienced playboy, Chloe backs away again, uncertain that physical intimacy between them will have as much of an impact on him as it will to her.

Lucifer looks away, confusing her further. Chloe flees, mumbling something about searching for more dry things and food.

As she passes the pile of her wet clothes, Chloe spots the red seal on the parchment papers she picked up earlier peeking from her pants pocket. Intending to return them to Lucifer, Chloe retrieves both scrolls, tucking them in the interior pocket of the gym bag she grabbed to use to carry food.

She chides herself, “Treat this reunion like a case, Decker. Focus and find the materials necessary to be stranded here overnight. You need bedding, or some other padding, Lucifer is used to luxury and might balk at either of you on the cold concrete floor. I’ve certainly had enough of watching him laying on the floor suffering because of me. No more, not if I can do anything about it.”

The papers crinkle as she digs thru the yoga bags, finding mats and instant heat packs and stuffs them in the biggest gym bag. Obviously, someone here had been treating strained muscles. Chloe sifts through the contents to create as much room as possible in the exercise bag for other materials. The high quality papyrus paper, unique to Lucifer’s letters to her, crunches again. So they don’t get damaged, Chloe digs Lucifer’s scrolls out of the bag. She runs her finger over the red wax seal with its half inch rectangular depression, oddly familiar scrolling around the edge of the indent. Where had she seen that design? On Lucifer’s ring, when she covered his injured hand with hers to convey her trust in her partner, while intending to betray him. She flinched, well, that was why she had trouble recognizing the pattern. 

A tear fell onto the red wax seal, splitting it into little bits. The scroll unfurls in her hands and Chloe glanced over the writing hoping for prophecy clues from the damned. Perhaps the contents of the letter will give them something to talk about, while they take turns as usual balking at intimacy.

Burnt around the edges, some pieces crack off the edges of the scroll, leaving a pile of thick brown bits behind mixed with fragments of red sealing wax. Seeing her title at the top, Chloe assumes it is another dry letter to her and begins scanning for prophecy clues and instead discovers Lucifer’s emotional response to her written overtures. This is no stilted response to her hints of intimacy, this is Lucifer’s ardor for her on paper. After she finishes reading the first, Chloe snatches the other scroll and hastily breaks the seal. Its another impassioned letter to and about her. Chloe swiftly stuffs the mats, towels and heat packs into bags. Never mind creating order, she needs to discover why Lucifer did not send these letters of longing to her, but kept the scrolls with him. And will they finally be reading the same score together, or will hers be a plaintive melody and Lucifer’s a heavy metal anthem, creating their usual out of tempo cacophony. Perhaps not going backwards, but never forwards either.

When she returns to the storage area, Chloe finds packing blankets and gauzy fabrics taped to strategically placed cabinets, creating a colorful tent. One side is rolled up, obviously an entrance. Wait, think Lucifer, not an entrance, a way to feel unconfined, but still retain warmth in the improvised shelter.

Hearing rustling within the tent, Chloe softly calls Lucifer’s name, probably best not to startle a devil under stress.

“Detective,” Lucifer pokes his head out of the opening, “come join me in my tropical island nest.”

Chloe smiles in response to his bright tone and jest, a relief and encouragement after the stress of a reunion under fire. Perhaps, this time, it will be different.

“Complete with feathers?” Chloe waves one hand sized white feather.

“Ah, yes, the wings needed dry too. Nasty sensation, putting them away wet. Like wearing damp knickers,” Lucifer mock shudders.

“Is that why you were shivering?” Chloe supposes.

“Yes, I believe so, Detective. I’d never put them away wet before.”

“Let me see your arm, where the grappling hook caught you, just in case.” Chloe is still concerned about his injuries.

Lucifer holds up his arm. “All fine and dandy, just a small scrape.”

“But you were hurt, Lucifer.”

“Detective, you were alright. That’s all that matters.”

“Well, not to me. I brought some antibiotic lotion to put on that scrape, whether you like it or not.”

“Detective, I will never prevent you from putting lotion on me,” Lucifer gives Chloe an exaggerated wink.

As she leans into the tent, Chloe senses the air is warmer, as if she was nearing a fire outdoors. She peers in the shelter, all the electric firepits she saw are glowing red, with unplugged cords trailing away from them. “How?” she quizzes Lucifer.

He shrugs, “I unlocked them.”

Now Chloe shivers, “The heat does feel good.”

Lucifer brightens at her praise and she wonders if anyone ever acknowledged his thoughtfulness.

After climbing into the tent, Chloe twists the heat packs so they begin to warm.

“Detective, what are you doing with those?” Lucifer asks as she tucks the hot pads into the bedding.

“They are heat packs, Lucifer, to warm the bedding.”

“You are still cold?” Lucifer’s devotion to her comfort shines through his inquiry.

“A little, yes. If I slide the heat packs between the mats and the cloth, the bedding will get warm faster. Come and help, the packs don’t last long.” Chloe hopes to lure Lucifer closer.

“Certainly.” Slowly, Lucifer moves towards Chloe and her nest building. He helps her twist the heat packs into usefulness, stashing them under the fabric as she does. 

Her hands brush his, “That’s good, Lucifer, but why do you still shiver every time we touch?”

“Being with you is as far from Hell as I’m ever going to be. I journeyed from Pit to paradise a very short time. Bit jarring.” Lucifer admits ruefully.

Chloe, smiling, takes his hand in hers, rewarding him for admitting something intimate without distracting innuendos. Continuing with her theme of encouraging his confidences in her, Chloe takes his arm to spread the healing lotion on his scrape. 

It works, as she treats him, Lucifer begins to reveal tidbits about his experiences in Hell and with his family. “One part of the legends about Hell is true. Hell is just as awful as priests, shamans and true believers pontificate in their fiery sermons. No one, but you, wants the Devil as a partner. Certainly, the family didn’t want me, who made awkward inquiries.”

Chloe objects, “Your questions always make me think, and helped solve the crime. I hoped, when you returned that you would continue to be my partner.”

Lucifer shakes his head, “No one has ever wanted me to return to them. As in, ‘Get out and don’t come back because you asked difficult questions.’ Dump me off the doorstep, fiery descent, hard landing in smoking, shard ridden Pit.” Lucifer draws in a deep breath and continues.

“As in ‘Oh shite, Lucifer. Didn’t think you could find me. I guess you want that favor repaid.’ No one with whom I have bargained wants me to darken their doorstep again, now they are required to fulfill their end of a deal with the Devil.

The demons might have demanded a king, but they sure hate the kind of ruler I am.

This whole return to Earth has been bewildering, Hell was, well, more Hell like than usual, more challenges that I have faced in quite some time. Usually, upon my return to Earth, I first wash off the sulphur stank of Hell, change clothes and soak in the sunshine and fresh air. Then find a reasonable, willing bed partner.”

Listening, Chloe wondered when Lucifer would realize there was a willing bed partner right here. And that the rain and sea water had rinsed the stench of Hell off of him. Or, would they be practical and talk themselves out of developing their relationship (her) or just flat out take flight (him).

Uncorked, the rant continued, “Today, I flew like a bat out of Hell and almost instantly had the most preferred bed partner land on top of me. While I’m still reeking of Hell and in the fog. Then you and I had a hunt and took a three hour tour in that tiny boat. As part of that adventure, we actually saved an innocent. You do know the Devil does that only with you. Then, you dragged me to shelter, you hold my hand, then let go, with excuses about dry clothes. You inspect my wounds, then run off to find something to sooth them. You touch my face, are you caressing me, then running out again.”

“Lucifer, I’m not leaving you.” Chloe starts caressing his hands, hoping to reduce his confusion over her actions. “Just trying to lessen your pain. We are here til the storm subsides and someone looks for us. Let’s not waste the time we have, alone, misunderstanding each other.” (Besides, I have no competition here. No Brittanys, no flight attendants, no Eve. Phones are too wet to work, no chirping, beeping or buzzing.)

“I didn’t misunderstand your running away in fear.”

“Lucifer, are you going to drag that up now?” Chloe, exasperated, doesn’t want to take two steps back.

“Tis what’s happening now, again.” Chloe hears defeat in Lucifer’s tone when he says again this time, instead of the deep certainty of his commitment to her.

“No, after you flew away from Lux, I hoped you’d show up at my doorstep, or on the precinct stairs. I waited, just for you, not for the favors, not for the eggs. I want you, but not for the devil side, or angel either, but just for you.” Chloe refutes his assumptions. “It tore at my heart, to watch you ‘ _Go bravely on into the blackest night.’”_

“Really?”

Chloe cringed at the barely hopeful tone in Lucifer’s question, understanding better now the disbelief, then brightening in the past when she said she needed her partner. Who wants the Devil? Well, she did, right now, carnally.

Actions, touch especially, might do more to convince Lucifer than any words she had. Chloe longed to return Lucifer’s desire as written on the scroll he’d hidden near his heart.

Softly, she reassured, “Yes, did you think this revealing beach wear was the only clothes I could find?” while reaching out, hands going around the sides of his neck, which he adored if the shining, unbelieving anticipation in his eyes was any indication.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credits  
> The wind dying down when Lucifer and Chloe discuss prophecy inspired by Raiders of the Lost Ark  
> Just for you – Devil Side  
> Freeing the curls – Lucifer Season 6 episode title (a fan can dream)  
> Running out again – Creep by Radiohead, cover Tom Ellis  
> Tropical island nest – Gilligan’s Island theme  
> Go bravely on into the blackest night – My Love Will Never Die – Claire Wyndham  
> Discerning readers may note that I have spelled some words – Sulphur two different ways in this fic. One is Lucifer’s British English and the other would be the American English spelling. Because I can.


	11. Unsteady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What you desire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is NSFW, containing the smut.
> 
> Please be sure you have read Chapter 10. I thought I posted it this month, but somehow the website says it was in May. 
> 
> Song suggestions - Unsteady by X Ambassadors

As the Detective’s gentle hands went around his neck, Lucifer tried not to shudder. That response certainly distressed her. But, oh my, the luxury of such a simple contact being so intense. And no need to lure her with talk of favors, in order to speed up the contact to increase the sensations. No magnetic, frenetic façade required either. She was immune to his charms, such as they were. He was not immune to hers, however, even cold fingertips could be his undoing. Those hands tugging at his hair, proof he was in human form, not self actualized into the red skinned Devil. Proof also that he was important to her, that Chloe wanted him?! by her side. Now, her palms over his ears, no snagging on burnt, scaly skin. Proof this wasn’t some abyss fantasy of his, doomed by the ash descending from the heights of Hell to have holes burnt into it, like the furniture of a careless smoker. Chloe set a pace slow enough for him to savor, this new, more exceptional experience. Her petting, soft, accepting and encouraging. Shouldn’t think of how long it had been since such a _miracle_ had occurred. Currently, they were occurring non stop, Detective, no, _Chloe’s_ hands had reached his collarbone. Broken during his most recent jaunt to Hell, her gentle touch soothed a hurt he hadn’t realized he felt. Could this be his future, to have constant access to this comfort and all this bliss? His body was much more interested in what was to come sooner. Perhaps himself, very soon. Too soon, even. While he had been musing on the future, his body had responded rapidly to the here and now. Well, parts of his body. His hands were still under the sheets, getting physically warmer, but frozen in place. If he moved towards the Detective, would she run? Pull back on all that amazing affection and end this sensual pleasure paradise. Not a chance he was willing to take. Let her just continue with this steady exploration of his comfort starved body. When her hands stopped, Lucifer dragged his eyes open, focusing his attention on her. Why had she halted now? He gritted his teeth, attempting to stifle the whine. The tilt of her head indicated puzzlement. “Chloe?” he panted, hoping for a response he could understand.

“Lucifer, I never pictured you a passive partner. Are you certain this is what you desire?” Chloe asked gently.

“I want to be sure it’s what you desire.” Lucifer is as amazed as Chloe that his tone conveyed deep longing and uncertainty. Usually, he was more skilled at disguising his emotions.

“I’d like both of us to participate, Lucifer.” The slight tartness of her tone indicates to him that Chloe desires a different behavior from him than savouring sensations selfishly.

“As you wish.” Lucifer agreed on a sigh. Now in motion, Lucifer struggles against the instant physical gratification of dragging Chloe onto his lap. Instead, enchanted by the slow ascension to passion, he removes his now warm hands from under the blanket and brings his hands towards her neck. Maybe this was the secret then, of the intensity, the order in which she touched him.

Not likely, he was stroking her hair first, as it hung free around her neck, and that same energy flowed under his hands as he’d felt on his neck as Chloe touched him.

“Again,” he whispered in wonder.

Lucifer feathered his fingers down her slightly damp hair, grazing her neck and shoulders with his fingertips. Chloe’s smile in return emboldened him to deepen the contact on the next stroke, his fingers caressing neck and shoulders, following the chain of the bullet necklace. He paused caress just under her collarbones to look permission to continue lower. Chloe turned her head away from his gaze, well good things never lasted for him anyway. Hold on, those were her lips on the back of his hand. The seal of approval. The touch of her mouth, even better than he’d remembered, certainly better than the fantasies he tried not to have. Blood humming thru his veins, breathing accelerated, responses from such minimal contact achieved only with the Detective. Lucifer leaned closer to Chloe, inhaling the beach scent unique to her, tinged with a hint of clouds. Slowly, caressing his way down, Lucifer played this first touch to her breasts as he would a delicate, unfamiliar piano. Talented fingers discovering which motions she moaned for, what pressure would have her leaning into his caress. The wonder of her response, Chloe’s fingers drifting onto his chest, sometimes under the cloth, sometimes over it. His breathing stuttered as the tactile contact with Chloe shifted from direct, skin to skin to muted when the fabric became trapped between them.

“Okay?” Chloe whispered.

“Little unsteady,” Lucifer replied. “Do it again,” he encouraged in that excited tone of wonder he used after the first time she slapped him. Chloe smiles, caressing his cheek, acknowledging the shared memory. Lucifer rejoices that he is important enough to her that she remembers what he said so long ago in the precinct elevator. Better, Chloe’s grin is accompanied by a sensuous slide closer to him.

Lucifer smiles in return, while scooping her up into his lap. And with that, the restraint that both of them were showing dissolved into sudden heat and haste and clinging. Hands dove under cloth, lips met _._ Lucifer’s deep rumble was the bass accompanying Chloe’s happy humming. The sound of her encouragement drained a part of the tension of uncertainty out of Lucifer. If Chloe’s shifting was an indication, any unsureness on her part had dissipated also. Now, how could he shift this cloth so there was much less of it between him and the Detective? Never mind, her fingers were trailing down his back. Lucifer twitched, those white feathery menaces wanted out for Detective caresses also. He drew on restraint formed over millennia, a show of the divine would wreck the mood instantly. 

Now, he was the one moving, matching her slow strokes. Chloe squirmed closer still, her thigh grazing his upstanding cock, the fabric between them. Lucifer panted more harshly, struggling for restraint to not rip all the barriers between them away. That cloth was keeping Chloe warm, and thus must stay wrapped around her. Wrapped, oh how he wanted her, wrapped around him. Could happen, could happen, his lust chanted, s, soon. Never got this hard so swiftly. Welcome to the benefits of vulnerability around the Detective. He felt Chloe shiver, nestling closer to him. Lucifer tugged a cloth up around her, not wanting her cold. Suddenly, his seeking cock met her bare thigh, sliding downwards as Chloe squiggled to accommodate the removal of the cloth from between them. The intensity of motion and such intimate skin to skin contact drove Lucifer unexpectedly over the edge. 

Oh, yeah, vulnerability. Great joke, Dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credits - Unsteady by X Ambassadors
> 
> I read Two Reflections in One by Violent_Ends kind of obsessively to improve my writing of the sex scenes. If you haven’t read it, I recommend you go find it, as long as you are of age.


	12. Hold Unto (Unsteady) Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s the Devil and the Detective. There’s gonna be a little sidestepping and struggle, before they finally get there. Somewhat like getting announcements for season starts and new seasons. We did it, my friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interlude. Warning NSFW.  
> Lucifer deciding to quit smoking, my PSA to you, not sorry.

Startled, Chloe paused as he was done before she’d even really started. “Lucifer?”

“Bloody Hell, Detective. Another unexpected experience with you.” Chloe hears the chagrin and ruefulness in Lucifer’s observation.

“Ah, so this is the first time,” Chloe feels her face grow hot, “for th, this to happen?” She waved her hand vaguely towards their damp laps.

Head buried in her shoulder, Lucifer whispers through her hair, “In millennia, yes.”

“Are you finished, then?” Chloe murmured, wondering if there really could be more. Based on past experience, not so much. The prologue was glorious, but then our _moments_ always are. I really thought this time would be different, at least a little longer.

“Finished? Hardly Detective.” Lucifer chuckled mirthlessly. “I dream of seeing your ecstasy, waiting to hear the music of your pleasure, still anticipate learning your taste.”

“Oooh, all that.” Chloe wonders if Lucifer will pick up on her yearning from her tone. Or, more likely with them, misunderstand. Progress forward, then retreat, a continual sidestepping, away from intimacy of any kind. 

“That, and more, Chloe.” In his sigh of her name, she heard longing and promise.

Reassured, she tilted her face up towards his downturned one, surprising him with a gentle touch of her lips to his. He groaned and tightened his grip around her. Chloe, liking their unhurried kisses, kept this one light. As always with their intimacies, Lucifer waited for Chloe to advance to the next level, just as she chose. Chloe had worried that Lucifer, with all his adventurous sexual encounters, would be bored by her tentative advances. Instead, his trembling, unsteady hold onto her indicated he was as affected as she. Chloe squirmed again in his arms, ready for the promise of passion to bear fruit for her.

“Chloe, might be a bit late for this, but I’ve no protection for you with me. No diseases, I believe, but since my brother created a little Nephilim, apparently progeny are possible, for ...angels.”

“Got it covered.”

When Lucifer drew back, Chloe answered his inquisitive stare, “I like to be able to predict certain monthly events.”

“Ah, always a plan.”

Chloe can feel Lucifer gently stroke her hair, but his eyes are realms away, thinking about hidden grand machinations predetermined by Dad. 

“Yes, always the planner. With you, though, my plans are in disarray, my beliefs have been completely upturned and, and I love you, still.” She hopes to reassure him that even though she does think ahead, her aspirations for the future have changed, to adapt and include the Devil. “Partners change for each other, because they care.”

Chloe felt the shudder that ran thru him at her admission.

“My first love,” he admits into her blond tresses, she had succeeded in reassuring the Devil he was alone no more.

To encourage him further, Chloe gathers her hair so she can brush her ear against his lips.

“Ah,” he groans.

Now Chloe shivers, finally, first hand experience of the many personal benefits of Lucifer’s talented tongue. And how could her tongue be conversing with her partner without confusing words. She draws his hand up to her mouth, setting one of his long fingers to her lips. Lucifer switches then to kissing her ear from top to lobe. Chloe pokes her tongue out between her lips, licking his finger from bottom to tip. With her ear next to his mouth, she can hear the deep, rumbling groan of Lucifer’s response. She wriggles in response to the music of his desire.

“Mmm,” she hums approvingly, “the seawater washed away the nasty cigarette taste.” And continues lapping at his fingers and palm, enjoying the way he spread his fingers for more and each breath he took was shakier than the previous one.

She feels Lucifer still and pictures the wheels in his head spinning. On one great sigh, Lucifer muses, “Never contemplated quitting smoking at all, and certainly not cold turkey, but here we are.”

Chloe smiles against his finger, relishing the proof of his devotion to her, Detective sensible brown boots. Opening her lips just slightly, Chloe plants wet kisses back down his finger to his palm.

“Gobble, gobble,” Lucifer jokes into her ear.

However adventurous his previous lovers had been, Chloe had confirmation that there were many firsts left, even if her sexual repertoire was limited. Really, Lucifer saw sex mostly as an exchange, a bargain of physical satisfaction for some need of his. He’d gifted her with a promise to give up his bad habit for her comfort. Best to reply with actions, not confounding words. Chloe sucked one long pianist finger into her mouth and felt the pleasure rumble through Lucifer

She shivers, turning her head so her ear meets his lips. Chloe feels the satisfaction flow through Lucifer as he kisses the shell of her ear. There’s another flow, moisture between her legs. She opens her legs, relaxing to the feeling. Lucifer trails his fingers up her knee and inner thigh. He curls around her, using his height to pepper the top of her breast with kisses. Chloe can feel his lungs expand with each breath. Suddenly, he sniffs deeply and the next exhale reverberates through her, almost a purr out of him. 

“Mmmm?” Chloe questions without words.

“Now I know the scent of your arousal.” Chloe hears both satisfaction and anticipation in Lucifer’s response. “More intoxicating than the beach, at night, stars reflected in the foam and waves.”

“We both smell like sea water, Lucifer. Your version just sounds so much more romantic.” Chloe sighs, she’d like to ditch the always practical persona for a more sparkly version of herself **,** likelier to keep Lucifer’s interest. “Teach me to ride the waves,” she whispers. “Music might help, we dance well together. I even let you lead.”

“As you wish.” Lucifer waves a hand towards the MP3 player, with speakers still attached. “Someone has good taste, they’ve Valerie Broussard in the queue.”

_And when the river sweeps you right off your feet_

_Hold on to me_

_Ohh, hold on to me_

_Ohh, hold on to me_

_Life, an ocean, keeps pulling your anchor down_

_Deep in darkness and you can’t hear a sound_

Chloe feels Lucifer’s warm, talented hands massage her thighs, firm pressure, light skim, firm pressure, ghost over her center. 

“You asked for waves, darling. This river sweeps us both off our feet.” He winks at Chloe for adapting the lyrics from ‘Hold Onto Me’, the song currently playing.

Chloe laughs at Lucifer’s silliness. She can feel him relax with her lighthearted response to his playful mood.

“I like the rhythm too, take you to higher ground.” Chloe responds, wishing to stay in tempo with her partner.

“Ah.” Lucifer croons in response, ‘Hold onto me. Life, an ocean, keeps pulling your anchor down’

“Deep in darkness and you can’t hear a sound.” Chloe pets the dark, fluffy curls again as she sings, wanting Lucifer to know she appreciates the depth of his sacrifice, returning to Hell, believing he would not be able to return to Earth.

Taking his hand, Chloe guides it over her body, swaying to the melody and the sensations. Lucifer guides the sensual waltz til they are both laying down, face to face. Again, she feels him shiver, here, under her fingertips, the man she’d desired all that time.

“Hold onto me,” she mummers as he hums along. “You’ll be alright cause I’m right at your side.”

As the music fades, Lucifer modulates his humming from Valerie Broussard’s ‘Hold onto me” to X Ambassadors’ Unsteady melody.

“Don’t let go. Whoa, If you, if you?” Amenadiel is right, I am a coward, can’t say the word.

“Yes, I love you. This time I know you’ll be alright, cause I’m standing right by your side, woah.” Chloe responds with phrases from ‘Hold Onto Me’ when Lucifer stumbles over his words.

Lucifer ducks his head down to the valley between her breasts. “Only flying’s felt this amazing.” The deep rasp revealing the depth of his emotions, on the surface for her.

To encourage him to continue, Chloe caresses the back of his neck with her fingertips. He shudders again, moaning into her breast. The vibrations of his pleasure have Chloe lifting her hips toward Lucifer. 

“Ahh, darling, sure?”

“Very sure, Lucifer.” Chloe kisses him between each syllable to reassure him of her desire.

Lucifer’s cock strokes over Chloe’s mound, satisfying and teasing at the same time. She can feel his arms shake. He glances curiously at them every once in a while, obviously puzzled by the reaction. When not engaged mouth to mouth with Lucifer, Chloe turns her head to kiss arm and shoulder.

Chloe savors the slow pace. No frantic, why are we doing this at work, coupling. All wonder and real intimacy, not desperate humping. “Lucifer, again.” 

For once, he complies without questioning. Chloe can feel him grin against her fingers. He glides over her a few more times. Chloe drives her heels into his thighs, attempting to achieve more pressure.

With some humor, Lucifer asks, “Want to drive?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all the wonderful readers who keep checking in with this story. I really treasure your interest. The occasional comment or kudo keeps the muse motivated.  
> Credits  
> Unsteady - XAmbassadors  
> Hold Onto Me - Valerie Broussard  
> Two Reflections in One by Violent Ends


	13. I Got You (I Feel Good)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Should've had a stretch first

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments welcome, its what fires up the muse. Thanks for your interest it means alot.

“Oh, yeah-aaa,” Chloe rejoiced, obviously pleased by Lucifer’s clever way of suggesting for her to be on top.

Lucifer feels her tension shift from agitated to anticipation. When she raises one side of her body, he maneuvers them so Chloe is on top.

“Mmm, so good, so good,” they mummer in harmony.

Eager for all the contact possible after his touch starved stint in Hell, Lucifer keeps his arms cradling Chloe’s back. Legs bent up, thighs cushioning the perfect derriere of the Detective. A moist downstroke over his cock has Lucifer choking, “Again, Chloe.”

He’s rewarded with her giggle, and a slow drag of her hips upward.

“Minx.” How did the Detective accomplish this, the simplest of sex acts suddenly wrecking him? Never mind, he was overthinking again. Concentrate on encouraging Chloe to continue. “Beautiful,”

Chloe rewards him with a slow, lengthy slide towards base. “Hot,” she moans.

Startled, Lucifer takes hold of her hips, stopping her movement.

“Too much?” he asks anxiously.

“Of what? Lucifer, postpone whatever crisis this is,” Chloe protests, on a high pitched whine.

Either I didn’t morph to devil form, or she is just too far gone to care. I know I run hotter in Devil form. Don’t want to scorch the Detective, after all. Lucifer wiggles his right hand between their hips. He’s surprised to scrape the sensitive skin at the seam between his leg and hip, as his fingertips move toward his cock to check its condition.

“Mmm, feel nice,” Chloe circles her hips, massaging her mound against his fingertips.

Lucifer slides his hand further in, fingertips finally reaching his cock. He relaxes in relief, finding no Hell heated, dry, scaly ridges. _My love won’t do you no harm_. Chloe shifts again, chasing his fingers. He pulls his fingers back out just a smidge, stopping upon hearing contented sounds resume from Chloe. His nails dig again into that seam, the pain a sure indication he’s with the Detective. Lucifer is grateful for the little, distracting hurt. Its helping him hold off while the Det, no, Chloe extends her ecstasy ride. Satisfied that he’s not unknowingly hurting Chloe, Lucifer brings his left hand up to her hair. Loose, and slightly damp still, it reminds him intensely of his family. When all was well and he was accepted, encouraged to assist his siblings with their wings, damp from flying too much in the clouds. Another warbling moan from Chloe derails his bittersweet, unwelcome comparison, thankfully. 

What did Chloe need to surf the sky and climax above him. Through her flowing blond locks, Lucifer’s fingers sought the sensation that would help Chloe to her release. Perhaps her ears, if her ability to listen to him was any indication, they were unusually sensitive. She seemed to like it, tipping her head into his hand. With her motions above him, Chloe was certainly communicating. The more she played and tormented him, the more he was glad he’d spilled earlier. He shifted the hand caressing her face so his thumb could stroke along the chain of the necklace he gave her. She’d kept his gift, and thought enough of him to wear it. Soon, he’d be penetrating her. Finally. Ahh, but this was bliss, right now. Wet, warm, giving, such pleasurable sensations more intense with Chloe’s presence. Her enthusiastic participation, after years of fantasizing about this, felt better than any drug. Once again, Chloe entranced him. As with their prom dance, they seemed to be moving to the same melody. Only with her, was he free of the need to lead. Obviously, he had to rule Hell absolutely. No pleasure there. There’d been plenty of sex on Earth, of all exotic varieties, except this one. Still, he’d had to direct people to their desires and had bargained out of habit. With Chloe, they were still partners, consulting with the other to create tingling, ever increasing sugar and spice. Enough about him, better concentrate on Chloe so she didn’t wander off the way he had. Was there a rhythm to her mummering, for the wrecked mess she made of him to follow? Lucifer scratched her neck, Chloe moved up into it so his fingers moved down her shoulder blade. 

The music shifted to squeaking, “Mmm, mmumm, there.” 

He moves his fingers down, so she will follow, hopefully with her whole body. She does, his cock just slipping into her. 

“Tight,” Lucifer grated on a dark moan, his fingers digging into her back, tense. He knows he must resist the urge to push her hips down further onto him.

“Should have had a stretch first, I think,” Chloe rejoins, face scrunching up.

Lucifer chuckles, whole body moving up.

“Whoa, oww,” Chloe jerks up, pulling away from him.

“Easy, darling. We only do what pleases you,” Lucifer assures her, moving hands to her shoulders. Always her choice.

“Oh, Lucifer, ‘m looooking forward to much more than ‘pleeaased.’” Chloe growls.

“As you wish, darling.”

Chloe wiggles over the tip of his cock. “Love that bit of Devil rumble. All gravelly and thunder.”

Lucifer grunts at the pleasure, concentrated where he is most sensitive. Under his fingertips on her back, he feels a shift in the tension in Chloe. Her hips swivel minutely, with him just barely inside her. “ _I got you, I feel gooood_ ,” Chloe croons.

“Beautiful,” he encourages her with resonating Devil voice.

“Mmmph” Chloe shifts down further onto him.

Lucifer slides a hand up, between them. He feathers his fingers through the soft nest of her hair, seeking the point of her pleasure. He’d found his, she was wet, warm and enthusiastic. With slow movements, Lucifer stroked her. If she came, when she came, possibly her way down would be made easier. Chloe shuddered in response to his petting. Glorious, just glorious. Amazing sensations, and he wasn’t fully in yet. And Chloe had not yet reached her peak. His fingers went from petting to massage. Still glorious, more glorious. And she slid a fabulous fraction further down, each time he discovered her sweet spots. Still tight and slick and welcoming noises, just for him. She quivered surrounding him, panting his name. He chanted her name in response, to make himself believe this was finally happening. A welcome difference from frequently biting his tongue during amorous encounters. More caresses and finally, he felt her climax. Her throbbing release summoned his, swift and intense, more overwhelming than he had ever dreamt. This had been all pleasure, and was still pleasure, Chloe laying on top of him, warm and welcoming and the scent of their amour encircling them. Bliss, all bliss. Her golden hair, tickling his chin, strewn over his shoulders. Lucifer turned his head, rubbing his ear against her hair as she lay gasping her gratification over his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing but admiration for all the people who create and sing with such talent.  
> Credits  
> James Brown - I Got You (I Feel Good)  
> I was fascinated by stories here about lovemaking with Lucifer in Devil form and an allusion to crept into my fic. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.  
> I read Two Reflections in One by Violent_Ends kind of obsessively to improve my writing of the sex scenes. If you haven’t read it, I recommend you go find it, as long as you are of age.


	14. Flight Risk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post interlude. Did you pay attention to the clues? Lets find out if our detectiving duo did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who commented or kudoed or checked back. Its what keeps this writer scribbling.

“Darling, what are you searching for still in this mishmasht mess of a storage area? We found and fed each other plenty of food. And you are all the dessert a devil could want, even if I have to bend down further to find it with you in those flat beach shoes.”

Lucifer leans over her, hands savouring, drifting lightly over ribs, waist and hips. 

Chloe rolls her eyes, trying to find restraint, “ _If I don’t stop him now, I’ll never stop him at all. Or myself.”_

“No, Lucifer, stop that,” Chloe swats at his hand, skimming hotly down her ass. “I’d like to see if there are any props left from the movie my mother filmed here. It would make a great Christmas gift for her.”

“Very well. I will look thru this disintegrating box. Who jumbled all this stuff together?” Lucifer complains, pulling out a sparkling butterfly wind chime from the top of the box and hanging it onto one of the metal shelving units. It spins slightly from the movement, sending sparkly twinkles shimmering throughout the cavernous space.

“I think you are in the right box, Lucifer, I remember that chime from Mom’s movie, they used it to set the mood for the fortune telling scenes.” Chloe hopes Lucifer unpacks boxes with less complaining than when faced with paperwork.

Realizing a great deal of time has passed without griping, or even a sound, from Lucifer, Chloe spins around til she spots him. He’s standing there, frozen, except for the fingers stroking the fake gem studded cover of a tome.

“Oh, I remember that book, ‘Hope to All.’ It was a prop used in both movies. I’m actually in both films with it, turning the pages for the supposed (Chloe rolls her eyes) seer. My lines were ‘ _Sea may rise, sky may fall._ ” 

The cheerful tinkle, twinkle of the wind chime startles them both with no breeze blowing through the room. Sparkles again dance over both of them, and the book, lighting up even fake gems. Papers rustle, fabric flutters and whistles trill through metal shelving. Chloe shakes off her reaction, “Well, that’s odd. Did you somehow cue up the special effects system, Lucifer?”

“No, I did not. Has this happened before?” He waves a hand, indicating the fantastical atmospheric phenomena.

“Oh, yes, that’s why I’m in the movie. I stood in for the actress one day and my timing with the special effects was so good in every rehearsal, the director kept the scenes with me as page turner.” She continues her tale. “The cover fascinated me too,” she confides for something to say as Lucifer is laser focused on the slowly dimming fake gems.

“Smart director,” Chloe hears him whisper.

Concerned by the strained look on his face, Chloe softly asks, “Lucifer?”

“A book with which to pretend to prophesy, Detective? Which you held?” Lucifer’s even tone heightens Chloe’s detective senses. Lucifer only focuses so intently on the details when they apply to him.

“Yes,” Chloe’s eyes widen. “Does it have something to do with us?”

“Most certainly.” Lucifer’s even tone increases her wariness.

“Oh, that’s good, Lucifer. We found a clue.” Chloe looks again at his expression. “Isn’t it?”

The look he gives her is minus all his usual cockiness and bravado. If it was anyone but Lucifer, Chloe would have labeled the look trepidation.

“Why did the cover fascinate _you_ , Detective?” 

Chloe senses a shift, Lucifer has become lead investigator and she, merely an incidental witness, caught up in something bigger than she ever acknowledged existed.

“As a silly girl, in the dark, it seemed one of the green stones glowed, without being lit up.” Chloe shakes her head, this can’t possibly be a clue, it was much more lonely and bored teenage fantasy.

He only nods. Now she is really worried, Lucifer without words. Chloe recognizes the look now, her partner wore that same consternation on his face when he first started to talk of Mum.

Chloe walks towards him, the green translucent stone begins to glimmer, but the twinkling of the other gems has ended.

“I didn’t imagine it.” Chloe halts, pointing at the glow, trying not to backup. Hell, trying not to run again. “What does it mean?”, teeth clenched together, to keep from chattering.

“We won’t be giving this book to your mother.” Lucifer begins walking towards the gym area in the other part of the building. “You continue to look for that gift, Detective. I would like to examine the tome.”

“I’m coming with you.” Chloe turns to follow him. 

The joy in his face at the promise of her company is quickly swamped by the conviction that made him leave her to protect her. “Without your _effect_ on it.” Lucifer looks aside from Chloe’s sharp gaze.

“Oh,” (there’s as lame an excuse to take off as I’ve ever heard. Even Dan did better than that.) “Don’t you dare leave me here, Lucifer.”

Chloe is not surprised that he looks affronted. “Of course not, Detective.”

“Lucifer, you are a bit of a flight risk, when you are worried about my safety.”

“Point taken.” Lucifer glances again at the doorway.

Chloe nods, “ _Go on, go on_.” She sighs, “ _I’ll hold my breath til your return_.”

Lucifer turns, head down, for the gym area, looking confused and hurt.

“Lucifer, wait.” Chloe realizes he has mistaken her recitation of the lyrics to ‘My Fearless Love’ as cruel sarcasm, because that line is not included in the TV show version played most often. Chloe chases after him, glad she can this time. “There’s more to it than that.”

She takes both of his hands in hers and hates the visible angst on his face as he awaits some kind of new betrayal. “This time you won’t”, she begins to sing,

“‘ _Go bravely on into the blackest night_ ’ alone again. 

I’ll ‘ _Hold my breath til your return._

 _My love will never die._ ’”

She shifts to lyrics from a song with a rosier outlook, “ _This time I know we’ll be alright ‘cause I’m standing right by your side.”_

“Ah.” With that strange, wary, unbelieving hope on his face.

“Partners still, its real.” Chloe assures him, hand on his cheek. Lucifer kisses the palm of her hand tenderly and backs away. After a few steps, he spins abruptly, striding from the room.

She whispers as he enters the gym area, soon to be out of her sight, “My fearless love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credits  
> Claire Wyndham’s My Love Will Never Die has a longer version besides the one in the season 4 finale. ‘Hold my breath ‘til your return’ is a quote from the longer version.  
> Valerie Broussard – Hold Onto Me  
> The fantastical atmospheric phenomena inspired by the translation of the medallion scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark.


	15. Message in a .... Boot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer rambles about the Detective, God, and still avoids anything adjacent to paperwork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I don't confuse you too much. This chapter is I think stream of consciousness.

Lucifer flees. Wonders about Chloe’s feelings for him, while stalking around in the gym area. Did Dad simply set her up for all this? How could he, the Fallen One, cast out so long ago, possibly determine the answer to that? The Detective would discover clues on paper, instead of ranting at the unresponsive ceiling. And by gathering items related to their investigation, not just clutching the prophecy book once in the keeping of his partner. Speaking of items related to the Detective, here are her favorite boots, jumbled? in a heap with her work clothes. What had been so important to his meticulous darling that she would abandon untidily something valued? He’d better collect her boots and other clothing and take them back as a peace offering for his abrupt, almost churlish exit. Why does this boot crackle when I squeeze the calf part? Well, well, well. A secreted missive. Let’s pull the paper out of the boot and see what its about. 

**My name** is at the top, in the Detective’s script. There’s something about which to grin, never mind the angst, lets live for fun and rule breaking, like the Devil on Earth always has. What’s in this letter, besides proof of the miracle that my baby _kept_ writing me letters. Hopefully, its another one of those tantalizing missives, with hints of intimacy. Delicately, delicate unfolding of this paper, just like brushing the hair away from her face, when you first thought it was real before you knew she had been poisoned. Chloe wrote her feelings about me and our!? reunion. Not just passion, but confessions of longing for me. I’ve dreamt of this, unwilling to fantasize. Chloe must be acting independently of her own free will. Not planned by God, but her free choice. No way Dad would let me have even this much assurance of love. And, if this is part of some long con, I’d had better be about relishing the joy as soon as possible, before the sands in the very small hourglass run out. Would Dad allow, even to trick the Devil, Chloe’s ability to bring out the best in himself and to reassure him that he should learn to forgive himself? Well, that snort was certainly an inelegant noise, not bloody likely God would want his redemption.

Such a balm, Chloe’s conclusions in the letter about him after the disdain from his family for millennia. Certainly, Dad, hadn’t praised him for making troublesome inquiries or disputing His opinion. Nor had God found something positive to do with the answers discovered. Nothing, anywhere indicated that Dad was hoping to see him again, except in utter defeat.

But what had been important enough for the conscientious Detective to abandon this most privy letter with her clothes? I can understand the letter being hidden from the greater world, but why hadn’t she shared her dreams with me? For answers to those questions, need to locate the Detective, then, without his mojo, discuss intimate topics. Better gather up the still damp clothing. What’s this, a pile of charred paper bits? Ah, it’s the edges of the papyrus on which I wrote to the Detective. And the red sealing wax used to further protect my writings, where I detailed my yearning for my love, from prying eyes in Hell. Chloe’d be able to open the scroll, it was addressed to her.

When his partner had returned to him from this area, she had mentioned the revealing beach wear from the letter of longing he wrote. Chloe must have read the wistful chronicles, then found him, then seduced him. How had she acquired the scrolls, one tucked securely in the bottom of his jacket pocket, the other in his pants pocket? Shredded jacket and torn pants, the papers must have dropped out at some point. And she thought enough of him to retrieve them. Finally, without extravagances, I’m going forward with the Detective, not backwards or sideways. Whatever prophecy is in the book has waited for us a long time. It can wait a little longer while I indulge my curiosity about the Detect, no, Chloe’s feelings about me and why she hadn’t sent the letter. Besides, the tome is just dry pages bound together, almost dreaded paperwork(shudder). It will be easier to find more clues questioning the Detective than reading the book. Best to make discoveries about the prophecy with Chloe, the paper chaser in their partnership, nearby to illuminate them. There, the perfect reason to return to her straightaway and not appear spooked by intimacy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My muse wrote this as stream of consciousness. I'm not sure how good it is, but I hope you enjoyed and could make sense of it.
> 
> Comments appreciated. Please let me know if it was too hard to follow.


	16. Dischord Duet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Envy leads to head spinning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter really got away from me, both in length and content wandering all over the place. My muse and POV rules went round with each other, creating this.  
> The chapter is titled Dischord because POV rules indicated that readers might find switching from one character’s thoughts to another’s jarring. We are Lucifans, non conformists.

Confident in his excuses, Lucifer strides back towards her, boots and clothes, in tow, along with her letter and the tome. Upon finding her, he inquires, “Darling, why are you gathering all that ghastly colored fluorescent green screen cloth?”

“To leave an SOS on the beach, so any planes flying overhead know someone is here.” Chloe rams cloth into a bag, without looking at him.

Lucifer sighs, romantic respite revoked. “I brought your clothes and boots, along with my apology for the abrupt exit.” He sings the lyrics to the song Chloe was quoting to him as reassurance, “‘I’ve been walking alone for so long.’”

Chloe looks up, “There is a light at the end of this long ride.”

“Hold onto me,” they sing the same phrase found in the two different songs, smiling at their cherished memory from this island.

“Quintessential Deckerstar.” Lucifer declares, hoping to coax Chloe out of her, deserved, snit at him. 

She smiles and nods, normal Deckerstar has involved a lot of hurt on her end. Realizing that Lucifer always returns to her, it would be ridiculous to waste all the intimacy their relationship has developed here, finally forward progress, no backwards or sideways or momentum interruptus.

“You need not worry about signaling the outside world,” Lucifer shakes his head, “Detective, when we want found, I’ll simply contact Amenadiel,” and brings his hands together, as if in prayer.

“Oh, didn’t think about that.” ‘ _He actually is the Devil, who is also an Angel. His family has wings, instant transportation to the destination of choice. Not sure I want to start the rescue process, from this island with no competition, if there is no need to worry about how soon our SOS will be answered_. Chloe smiles, romantic respite restart. She sashays up to Lucifer, taking her clothes out of his hands and puts them down. “Thanks for bringing my clothes back,” and leans up for a lengthy kiss.

“Anytime,” Lucifer affirms, tone pleased and rumbling, “if that’s my reward.”

He puts the tome down as well, “Any possibility of coaxing you into nakedness, love?” ‘ _Never mind her unsent letter right now, why ask questions about a dry piece of paper when there is a warm and willing Detective for me! to fondle. I’m sure there’s an excellent reason for keeping it hidden?_ ’

Chloe slips her hands under his shirt.

He sucks in a sharp breath, “Its still real,” Lucifer whispers in her ear.

“Mmm?”

“Us, you, more pleasure than ever before.” Lucifer tries to explain.

“No comparisons, Lucifer. I already know more than I like about your past.” 

Chloe’s tart tone conveys even to Devil Oblivious that reminding the Detective of his previous sexscapdes is a bad plan if he wants more of them with her.

“Of course, darling, I’ll just shut up now.”

Mischievous, Chloe suggests, “You could whisper sweet nothings in my ear, without talking.”

“Mmmumm,” he groans in her ear.

Enthused that Lucifer is in harmony with her prelude suggestions, Chloe caresses Lucifer under his shirt. His breathing is instantly erratic, reassuring her that she is at least equal to the free spirits of Lucifer’s previous sexual encounters. She relished the touch of her partner, it’d been a long sensual starved stint for her, much of it spent with the feast before her, on display, but never to be enjoyed. And a up close and personal damn front row seat to a first, someone having continuous access to the banquet, not just a one night appetizer.

This companion valued her insight, in a world where no one else did. He’d opened up whole new universes to her, the whirlwind of success and pleasure. He might suggest incessantly, but he never rushed. Pleasure, he’d found the spot on her neck with lips and tongue. Lucifer circled the spot with his tongue, Chloe ran a finger around his belly button, over those beyond six pack muscles she’d been able to furtively admire, but never touch. They quivered under her feather light caress.

“Theeckive,” Lucifer groans, still mouthing at her neck.

“Biting your tongue, what crazy sex game do you hurt yourself?” a concerned Chloe inquires. _Lucifer has found another way to punish himself. Cut my wings off, well, had Maze do it._

Lucifer pulls back, starts playing with Chloe’s blond hair.

“I can sense the wheels spinning, Lucifer, while you concoct a truth adjacent tale to obscure the more significant story. Give me the entire saga for once, unembellished by red herrings.”

“Very well. Remember that Eve imitated you, dressed like you.”

  
“Yes.” ( _Be careful what you wish for, perhaps I don’t want the whole story_ )

“After that, I kept having to find endearments that started De – dear, dearling, or Ch - cheri, schugar. My tongue wanted to call out for you, when when I was ….with others.” Lucifer admits, wary of derailing his Detective’s desire.

“Oh,” Chloe winds herself around Lucifer, shimmying across his hardening erection. “Now that’s a sweet something.”

“You are the one delicious, darling Detective.” Lucifer draws in a deep breath, and lets it out on a dark hushed sigh, “Chloe.”

Chloe shivers in response to Lucifer’s Devil reverberating timbre. For now, at least, she can let the passion loose. Her hands go up to his hair, wild and free and curling. He groans again, sliding his hands into her blond locks and down to her rear.

“I dreamed this once, us wildly kissing, you freeing my hair from its bun.” Chloe slides up Lucifer onto her tiptoes, bouncing up. Catching on, Lucifer lifts her off the ground. Thru the thin fabrics, Chloe grinds against Lucifer. She tugs at the loose shirt preventing her from stroking Lucifer’s muscled chest from top to bottom. Together, they shed him of the shirt. 

Between kisses on his shoulders, Chloe confessed “I hated it, sometimes, when you stripped. All that strength on display, for everyone. Worse though, when you wore shirt and vest and jacket. Like seeing birthday presents all wrapped up when you know what’s inside the box but not when the party is.” 

“No one’s ever called me a gift before, Detective,” Lucifer admits, face buried in her shoulder.

“I investigate til I find the right answer.” Chloe hopes her assured tone will convince Lucifer she’s right and his family and the rest of humanity are wrong about him being evil. She licks his fingers again.

“Darling, d’you’ve a finger licking kink?” Lucifer remembers their first encounter, when his fingers luxuriated in the touch of Chloe’s wet, clever tongue.

“No, I’m detectiving. You’ve no calluses on your fingertips from piano playing?”

“Chloe, immortal, remember, unable to be hurt or damaged, except around you or Hell forged weapons. Ebony and ivory keys only make music, not pain.”

“Mmmm, play a tune now.” Chloe laps his fingertip with the end of her tongue.

“As you wish, but why?”

  
“I’ve been envious of your piano for a long time.” Chloe watches his hand at her lips, trembling in her grasp.

“Envious of the piano?” In surprise, Lucifer lets her down so her feet reach the floor and he can lean down to see her expression.

“The piano is the faithful companion you reveal your emotions to, even when you don’t appear to understand them. You caress the piano, she responds openly, unashamed. She has no rival, no matter how many people you sexcapade with, you return to her. The piano lets you express yourself, without words if you need. For that, and the comfort and joy it brings you, I’m grateful. But I’m still jealous.”

Dropping his head further, Lucifer admits into her shoulder, “I detest and adore the decorations with which you camouflage the beauty of your hair.”

“Why?” Chloe slowly exhales in his ear. _He thought of my hair, mmm that’s hot._

“I love that the glory of your hair is hidden from others when its caged. I hate the pins and clips and bands, when we are alone, confining your beauty away from me. I can glimpse the birthday present under the pretty bow, but mustn’t touch. Many, many fantasies include those golden locks, streaming free all over me.”

Chloe raises both hands to his fluffy hair, free from product confinement. She coaxes his mouth to hers, for a gentle tasting kiss. Her hands caress slowly to the scruff he’s so proud of. 

He shudders as she repeats the stroking. _Might have to accept the curls, if she going to play with them. Keeping the wings because they protect her. Don’t think about her playing with the feathers, if the fluffy appendages pop out you’ll never know if she wants you or is just enthralled by the divine_. He brushes his hands over her hair, “No deadwood could compare to the softness of your hair, loose and flowing over my fingers and hands.”

Chloe guides his hand from the end of her curls streaming down her back to the cusp of others, still covered by cloth. Lucifer explores the boundary tenderly.

“Mmm,” she kisses his bicep. “Head spinning, tent, lay down.”

“Certainly, Detective.” Lucifer scoops Chloe straight up, her core riding those six pack stomach muscles. She kisses him wildly. With gentle hands, he guides her hot mouth to his neck. Its not the Penthouse, where he knows every step and stair without needing to see. Also, he is carrying Chloe, they are both vulnerable. He strides swiftly to the place she indicated, instead of his normal languid pace. This is the Detective and he can feel her core wet and hot and wanting him through the thin cloth she is still dressed in. Plenty of reason to be in a hurry, except for the island they’ve always been interrupted when having a moment.

Entering the tent, Lucifer shifts so Chloe can continue her glorious ride on his stomach. Both tug and pull at cloth between them. Free of barriers, the frantic pace slows. Lucifer cherishes the softness and delicacy, new sensations. Chloe purrs above him, the most beautiful music his ears have been privileged to hear. Her body is obviously enthralled by their lovemaking, twisting and swaying above him. His fingers long to play with those gorgeous breasts, but then they would be hidden by his hands. Lucifer decides to ogle them, in person finally, while Chloe is occupied with her ride. _That slip and slide feels marvelous._ _Could he, would she, if he put his hand near her mouth would his Detective’s finger licking kink be in rhythm with her motion. Let me just put my hand to her face. Ah, she’s kissing my thumb. Yes, in time with her movements. Now she’s coaxing, coaxing me!, to glide my thumb into her hot, wet mouth. As if I’d be hesitant to have any part of me licked by her. Her tenderness, not a charade, while we play has my heart pounding like never before. I’ll just plunge my fingers (need to make this last forever) into her hair, shimmering above me. Soft and silky, trapped between her ear and my pinky. Nothing I could play on the piano compares to the magnificent melody my fingers are privileged to be cajoling from her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deep thanks to the folks who leave comments and kudos. It really helps me to keep going with this fic.
> 
> Again, song credits to Unsteady by XAmbassadors and Hole onto me by Valerie Broussard
> 
> I’ve not directly quoted the song, but some of Lucifer and Chloe’s rants have been inspired by Howard Jones’ ‘No One Is to Blame.’
> 
> Chloe’s rant in particular is influenced by ‘Two Reflections Into One’ by the talented violent_ends. That’s me by the way, adding to your hit count by reading that fic to try and improve my sex scenes for Deckerstar.)


	17. Duet Response, Harmony at Last?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you breathe like that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still NSFW

_‘Ohhh, those agile fingers. No wonder Lucifer can cajole the most amazing music out of the piano. The dark Devil rumble is even more enthralling. Now, how can I keep those sexy sounds coming? I’ll just flick my tongue over the tip of his thumb, still here in my mouth. Ah, yes gotta have more of those vibrations underneath me. If I can hold still for them. Swirl tongue over thumb, rumble. Swirl tongue over thumb, rumble. Feel the reverberation on my inner thighs, tucked tight to his waist. Suck a bit on thumb, rumble. Suck little deeper on thumb, rumble purr. Feel the reverberation on my core, continuing right up inside me. All the confusion in my head, gone.’_

“Darling, ‘M I not doing something right? You are not moving.” She feels Lucifer slide his free hand up and down her thigh.

Chloe gently pushes Lucifer’s thumb out of her mouth.

“If I hold still, I can feel the vibration when you groan.” She wriggles over his stomach to clarify. Chloe sucks in a deep breath, “It is my desire.” She wonders vaguely if she should be worried about the wild begging whine of her voice or the tangled mess of her hair. 

“Well, then,” Chloe can tell Lucifer deliberately drops his register and lengthens his vowels , “you should continue conducting.”

Chloe manages to roll her eyes, appreciating the innuendo, and nibbles his thumb back into her mouth. She shimmeys further down his stomach. The tip of Lucifer’s cock makes throbbing contact with her derriere. 

“Goood,” Lucifer growls.

Chloe sucks his thumb again. “Mmmm, good,” she agrees sampling his thumb with her tongue.

His hot length shifts over her rump again. “Like this, waves crash over me like water sloshing in hot tub,” Chloe manages around his thumb. Lucifer pulls his thumb out, leaning up to heatedly kiss his Detective. When they need to pause the kiss to suck in breath, Chloe leans back, flinging her long hair over her arched back. Golden locks trickle over his inner thighs and groin, already sensitive. She feels him harden further in response against her ass. His deep groan flutters through Chloe again, sound and sensation at her core. She sits back, running light fingers down his abs. His stomach tightens underneath of her, growing damper between them from her response.

“Darling,” in deep Devil register, eyes fixed on her, attentive to clues to her fancy.

Chloe shifts her weight to one hand, using the other to guide her partner’s hand to her bouncing breast.

“Hold onto me, so they don’t jiggle so much.”

“With pleasure.” Lucifer raises an eager hand to the other, neglected breast. He massages in rhythm to encourage her to move again.

She grinds down on his stomach again. “Moore?”

“Yes, Chloooe.”

“M so close, I want to come like this.” She writhes, seeking. 

“Beautiful. And so you shall.” Lucifer promises, eyes hooded in concentration.

“Can you breathe like this?” as she wiggles on his stomach.

“Don’t care and yes.”

“So good, you are hot on my rump. Sometimes, when you followed me so close my back could just feel the heat of you. I wanted to stop abruptly and have you crash into me, just to feel the flame cause warm wasn’t enough.”

“I’ll fix that, next round. The Devil burns for you, ‘Tective. You set my body on fire. Ahh, Chloe.” Lucifer’s deep, drawn out groan of her name.

With emotions swirling in time to her hips, Chloe shudders, coming messily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No plot or angst whatsoever. Not sorry.
> 
> Climax or interruption, that is the question for the next chapter.
> 
> Thanks for staying tuned in everyone.
> 
> Song credits - Extreme Music Burn for You


	18. Stars... Burn for You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bodies on fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The NSFW continues. World is just too serious right now.

Sliding his hands from delectable breasts to shoulders, Lucifer guided Chloe down, til she was lying on him. Detective panting at his shoulder was rapidly becoming his favorite intermission melody. How responsive she’d been to his voice, even though his mojo did not work on her. And more fun, the mystery of finding her arousal. He listened carefully, her breathing had now calmed enough for him to ease out from under her, shifting them sideways so her back lay against his chest, as requested. Lucifer held his breath, relishing the burn from holding back, as she squirmed upwards, one hand reaching through her legs to guide his cock over her mound. One soft finger stroked him, his underside gloried in the warm, wet friction. His cock twitched over her, Chloe moaned. Her responsiveness brought joy (not a recent or everyday experience for the Devil), and a determination to use his skills for both their pleasure. Unlike the more exotic partners of late, pleasing Chloe needed no games, artifice or drugs to set his body on fire. How could it be so simple, yet so exciting and novel? That was the true miracle. 

Now, if he could just get into the moment. Because it was a glorious instant, naked Detective in his arms, writhing in ecstasy, trilling a tempting tune. One hand looped behind him, pressing his body towards hers. The other hand had pushed his hands away from providing more friction where they were almost joined. Ah, she liked the fluttering and teasing. 

Shouldn’t have thought of fluttering, now the cramped wings wished to do the same. Over the so responsive Detective. Lucifer ground his teeth together, he hadn’t wanted to show her the Devil side, but even more did not want to wonder if she was reacting to him or to the divine he fell away from so long ago. Time to bring the Detec, no Chloe, to climax so he could also and circumvent another sudden big reveal, disasters that they were. Sure, she had seen the wings, but not touched the remnants of his angelic status. It had to be real, not some unknown plan of Dad’s.

Lucifer shifted, so the tip of his cock met the only gates he wanted to go through. He put his hand over Chloe’s mound, massaging it to keep her close to the edge. She squirms down, the much joked about penetration occurs, again. He shudders, its beyond anything he dreamt or fantasized. Every nerve rejoices with ecstasy and thrill of intimate contact with the Detective. 

From the crooning he heard, Chloe is also finding bliss and fulfillment. Her music is in time with the pulses around his cock,

“More, moore” her high pitched moan matches his deep grunts,

“Hold, hhoold”

She shrieks suddenly, “Yeees.” Accompanied by frantic thrashing and intense throbbing around his deeply buried cock.

“Yea, ah” and Lucifer tightens his grip on Chloe so she doesn’t thrash herself separated from him. Her orgasm again launches his. Almost launched the wings too, but he shuddered and shook and shoved fingernails deep into his palms til the storm passed. Tension drained out, Lucifer unclenched his jaw and sank his head into Chloe’s hair.

What a release. As if Linda was more right than he knew. He had found home, finally. After so long without. Breathing still shaky, Lucifer kept leg and arms wrapped around his lover. He could say that now, or at least think it. This one might not abandon him immediately after sex, as so many before her. She did return, and looked eagerly for his return as well. Not like his cock was leaving the warm nest anytime soon. Staying home, he was. Where his body relaxed, still smelling beach scent unique to Chloe. It was real, shared, if the loosening of the tension in his partner was any indication. Her hands over his, slowly caressing both of them to calmness. No feeling of falling by himself with her snuggled up to him. Just drifting, slowly descending to earth, body and mind temporarily peaceful.

As the euphoria fades, Lucifer shifts to provide body heat for a shivering Detective. His arms flail about around them, for cloth to retain the warmth.

“Chloe?”

“Mmm. Nice and cozy, with the blankets.” She pulls his offering tighter to her. “Now I believe you made the stars, because I certainly saw plenty,” she mumbles.

Lucifer chuckles, “I’m not sure which was more draining.” Even wrung out, before closing his eyes, the Devil checks to be sure the tome of prophecy is still in reach. The book, with its portents unexplored, held the hope of the possibility that a future with the Detective could be discovered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the folks who left comments or kudos are very special to authors


	19. Shrodinger's book

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let Sleeping Detectives.... bluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angel Chime

If I lay here and pretend to sleep, I wonder if he’ll wander. Or will he be a cuddler, Lucifer’s always seemed like a main event guy, if the parade of one night stands can be believed. Sometimes, my being vulnerable in sleep or recovery is the only way he’s secure enough to admit how much he cares.

Chloe lays still, as Lucifer rolls over and gingerly brings the tome onto his stomach, obviously hoping to examine it without awakening her. She cracks one eye open, watching him run his fingers around the edges of the closed cover. Then he taps each glittering fake jewel, waiting for any reaction from the pretty baubles.

 _Do angels have other senses, like they have other limbs? Is that how Lucifer undoes locks?_

With each plink, Lucifer tips his head toward the book, concentrating on the tink sound his fingernail makes on each tap. He sniffs, too, eyes narrowed, if there are celestial senses, they are on alert.

Sleepily, so as not to have her bluff called, Chloe mumbles, “You certainly are fussing over that book, without even opening it.”

“Don’t want to know what’s inside. If I keep the book closed, the hope that I can stay on earth is still alive. Open it, and we might discover for sure that chance is dead.”

“Schrodinger’s book, that tome.” quips Chloe.

“Well played, Detective.” Lucifer grins at her, acknowledging her droll wit.

Her hands glide over the cover, book still in his grasp as she shifts over him for a kiss. When her fingers slide over the glowing green stone, it chimes sweetly. He pulls back from her lips, eyes widening.

“Detective, you did not tell me the stone sang when you touched it.” Lucifer reprimands.

“Because it hasn’t before, only now, with you. What does that mean?” ( _besides yet more celestial mysteries?)_ Chloe rolls her eyes.

Lucifer sighs, “Detective, are you familiar with something called moldavite?”

“Oh, Lucifer, Amenadiel mentioned it once and I made him explain. Then, I researched the legends associated with moldavite, just like the paper trail in a case. You Fell like meteor. It sounds very painful and explains the red burnt skin,” Chloe slowly runs her hand along his bare arm.

“Yes, enough about me,” Lucifer waves off Chloe’s concern. “Love, you continue that and naked! Detective caresses might derail me from prophecy hunter to lover in seconds.” 

Chloe sighs, _must I always be the responsible one._ _Focus on the research Decker, not the strong body next to you. Someone has to think ahead, so there can be more, and mo,ore interludes like this._

Conscientious Chloe returns in time to hear Lucifer ask, “Did you research the stone’s powers as well?”

“Moldavite comes from the emerald on your crown, really? The emerald became bunch of small meteorites, as you Fell, scattering in Bohemia. I read that moldavite glows and oh oh and if a particular gem makes a noise that stone is called an an ‘angel chime.’”

“Very few moldavite stones ring. And only for certain people.” Lucifer starts to shift out of Chloe’s embrace. Sitting up away from her, he has that resolute grief stricken look on his face again.

_“Oh no, not this time. He’s not going to run again, or disappear, or flap away or whatever. I just have to calm Mr. Flight Risk down so we can solve the prophecy mystery together, like we do cases.”_

“Right, Detective, I think you should stay away from these stones, and from me.” As he did in the Penthouse, a naked Lucifer strides away from her and the vulnerability he feels in her presence.

Chloe scrambles up after him, hurriedly dragging clothes on. She finally catches up to him just outside the exit to the cozy cavern. ( _Well, doesn’t this just figure. Darkening skies, no stars yet, no afterglow, descending night matching perfectly our quick shift from sunny lovemaking to impending shadows_.)

“Why should we be separated? Over some singing stones.” Chloe demands, pointing to the book Lucifer took with him when he bolted.

Fallen One, plunging to Stygian night

Striding up and down the beach, Lucifer fumes, “Because any of my enemies, and worse, family, will be certain, because of the moldavite’s response to you, that you and I share a connection. How could I be so stupid, to think Dad would allot me more than seconds of joy, and your affections? If we stay apart, maybe they won’t realize...?” Still wary of putting the depth of his devotion out there for everyone to overhear, the pacing stops mid stride, along with the words. Lucifer wills the Detective to realize the depth of the danger he’s always faced, especially when AWOL from Hell.

“Lucifer, I think everyone, miscreants, coworkers, exes, celestials, had figured out that Deckerstar is a thing sometime ago. It’s just us in denial, thinking we can hide.” Lucifer is non pulsed by her calm response. He is further shocked when Chloe walks up to him, putting gentle hands over his, clenching and unclenching the book rapidly. 

_Must keep her, returning to me. She runs and steps in front of danger, there’s no sense pretending anything I give her can keep her safe. Deckerstar is a thing, no more going backwards._

“Ah, fair point.” Lucifer goes down on one knee into the sand, “Chloe Jane Decker, mother, Detective, would you be willing to add another title, that of Queen, to your list of titles and make me the happiest male ever and m, marry me?”

_Time to rocket forward to the next phase of our relationship. I’ll have her with me, for as long as it lasts. Everyone knows the Devil takes care of his own. If she insists on being with me, she may be safer as my acknowledged consort. Better take advantage of every second with her._

He coaxes the green stone out of the book cover, extending it to his first love.

“Yes,” as Chloe cups her hands over his and the now humming, green glowing stone.

Lucifer rises abruptly from bended knee, dusting sand off of himself, glancing towards her, but not meeting her gaze. _She said yes! Is there a catch?_

“Lucifer, is the forsaking all others part included?” 

“Ah, yes, always. Don’t you know that, Detective?” he assures, just a bit of Devil resonance making it a vow to her.

He watches Chloe turn the softly glowing, tear drop shaped stone over in her hands and peer at the stone now revealed to be set as a pendant. She admires the intricate scrolling on the silver surrounding the green gem.

“This is the pattern around your ring, Lucifer.” 

“Yes, indeed.”

Chloe puzzles further over the jewelry, “Lucifer, its meant to be on a necklace, not a ring.”

“Yes, D, Chloe. May it join my birthday gift to you?” Lucifer runs his finger along the chain of Chloe’s necklace as the first star winks in the twilight gathering behind her.

“Oh, yes.” Lucifer glances at the lustrous star, then into Chloe’s sparkling eyes, which outshine his masterpieces every time. Nothing more beautiful than her sweeping her love tangled hair out of his way so he has access to her lovely neck.

Lucifer unclasps the necklace, putting the delicate chain through the pendant’s ball. It slides down towards the bullet, a harmonious tinkle created from their connection.

After fastening the necklace back around her throat, he completes his proposal with a soft, enchanted beach kiss. As they break apart, Lucifer gathers her to him with all the tenderness the Devil can find, her head tucked into his shoulder. As he glowers at the sky defiantly, Lucifer calculates, “ _If she’s going to be a target for deranged demons, incorrigible immortals, and rabid relatives, they may as well know the depth of my devotion. Even if I lose, everytime, how often really do Dad and the others want war with me?_ _It might be the Detective’s entire (too short for me) lifetime before they actively challenge the uneasy truce. For me to explore these new, and miraculous sensations. Sand, staying blissfully at my feet, to replace ash falling, mercilessly sticking to hair, clothes and body. Air as a cool breeze, not sulphurous haze choking my lungs. Starlight, stunning in its shine, if I care to look up and once again be taunted by being able to gaze upon, but not return to my creations. Even more beautiful partner, who had doubts, then thought enough of who I hope to be to work through the worlds’ misconceptions of me and her fears of the Devil’s reputation and burnt horror show appearance. Journeying on Earth, to answer her call, staying with the Detective, justice seeker, able to assist her quest for truth._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter owes its title to the talented NotOneLine. When we were all waiting to hear the news about Season 6, yes or no, NotOneLine compared our dilemma to Schrodinger's box and my muse was captivated by the idea.
> 
> A belated but big thanks to the folks bookmarking my fic. I’m so thrilled you thought enough of what I wrote to put it in your library. As always, my muse and I find comments and kudos inspiring. I'm grateful for all your interest.


	20. That's Your Cue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just want to take him home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frozen Over

“Lucifer, I think I’m ready to go home now. Everyone will be worried about us.” The deepening twilight has reminded Chloe that time is passing for family and friends worried about her. 

‘ _Oh, Lord, Oh Lord, what have I done?_

_I’ve fallen in love with a man on the run_

_Oh Lord, Oh Lord, I’m begging you please_

_Don’t take that sinner from me_

_I just want to take him home.’_

“Very well,” Lucifer concedes, “I’ll contact Amenadiel.” He pops into the cavern, returning with a kapa length wrapped around his waist like a giant towel.

Chloe grins, finally, a situation where the Devil has a little modesty. It was charming that Lucifer did not want his brother to see in the flesh just how attracted he was to her. Or apparently the hickies she’d left near his belly button. To cover those, Lucifer had turned another kapa length into an open vest. It would only work on someone as tall as the Devil. Who now has his hands clasped in prayer, just so she can go home.

Poof, Amenadiel arrives promptly. 

“Chloe, you are alright,” Amenadiel celebrates, and turns to Lucifer, scolding, “You, with wings, were seen by UFOer’s and the Coast Guard. The LAPD, mostly Ella with encouragement from me, convinced the UFOer’s that you were storm tracking equipment. She kept ranting through considerable laughter that a weather balloon? would be too obvious a coverup, which I didn’t understand. The Coast Guard has classified your wings as a weather phenomenon, a reflection of lightning off the choppy water. When I heard both descriptions, I knew it was you. I’m glad to find you in one piece, brother.”

“You certainly arrived promptly, Amenadiel.” Lucifer sneers.

Chloe hears the suspicion in every syllable Lucifer utters. Here we go.

“Just like old times, I was tracking you down. Father made a lot of ocean,” Amenadiel grinned. “Chloe’s family was worried about her.”

“And I suppose now you will herd me back to Hell, as usual.” Lucifer accuses, stance defiant.

“Oh no, Luci, the rest of the prophecy I’ve been able to piece together indicates you are supposed to stay with Chloe.” Amen nods encouragingly at Lucifer, who is still glaring at him.

Chloe interposes herself between the out of sync brothers. “Look, Amenadiel, we found a prophecy book, ‘Hope to All,’ to help us in our research. Lucifer thinks its important because I turned pages of this book in movies about predicting the future.”

“’Hope to All’? That rhymes with one of the lines I deciphered. The last part of the prophecy is supposed to rhyme with a mid stanza line, according to the portents I’ve discovered,” Amenadiel explains.

“Detective, that’s your cue.” Chloe is confused as Lucifer places her hand on cover of the book as if she were to open it. Yep, she is definitely not lead investigator on this one.

“Sea may rise, sky may fall?” Chloe recites, as the wind whips up, seashore fog descends, waves crash up the beach to their feet, reflections of stars twinkle off the heightened breakers.

Knowing looks pass between the brothers. Amenadiel, looking about at earthly indications of prophecy clues, confirms, “That’s the mid stanza line.” 

Lucifer grins, “You see, Detective, we did not need to open the tome to find the clue.”

Chloe grins back, rolling her eyes, “You do always try to escape the paperwork. This time by finding excuses to keep that book shut.” She grabs his upper arm with both hands, using it to pull herself up and kisses a surprised Lucifer on the corner of his mouth.

When she lets herself down, Lucifer shifts even more towards her, happy astonishment written all over his face. Chloe spins away from him at the choking sound coming from the other angel. Amenadiel coughs behind his arm, trying to hide his ear to ear knowing grin.

Rattled by showing emotion, especially in front of a member of his family, Lucifer deflects, “Brother, can you hint to the Coast Guard where we are, without revealing how you came by that information?”

“No, Luci, you can. Ella has been waiting for the transmitters in the bags of stolen cash on the boat to be triggered. All you have to do is open them. The signaling will start right then. She’s got the Coast Guard on speed dial to notify them the instant something on her computer pings. I saw the boat, mostly intact, still at the dock on the way in.”

“Oh, we will have to get ready right away,” an unenthusiastic Chloe acknowledges as Lucifer sighs, “Very well. Off you pop.” He makes shooing motions at his brother.

Amenadiel warns, “The Coast Guard is nowhere near this area, it may be a few hours or daylight even until you are rescued.”

“He could have lead with that,” Chloe grouses as Amenadiel becomes a dark shadow against the cerulean night sky.

She slips under the book, coming between it and Lucifer, who is trying to further investigate the book in the dawning starlight.

She walks her fingers up his chest, slipping her hands underneath kapa cloth as she lays a palm on his breastbone, this time with no blood dripping. Her thoughts turn to the body under the improvised clothes. _And I’ve definitely listened to too many songs about Devils and angels and creations of God._

_‘Underneath your clothes_

_There’s an endless story_

_There’s the man I chose_

_There’s my territory_

_And all the things I deserve_

_For being such a good girl, honey’_

“Darling, this is a most welcome switch, but why?”

“Now that I know what I’m missing, I know what I’m missing. Who can tell when we will have this much privacy again. You hurry and open those bags on the boat, so everyone knows we are okay. I will go back inside and pack, swiftly. Amenadiel said we might have a couple hours.” Chloe reminds him, giving him one of her dreadful attempts at a wink.

“Darling, if you are that eager, I might need to employ the feathery menaces as transportation.” Lucifer laughs, looks up and around, no one here to see him use the wings. Taking a few steps back from Chloe so the downdraft from take off does not bowl her over, he launches into the air. Majestic wings flap, Lucifer has certainly gotten with the impromptu program of Chloe’s creation very quickly. 

She rushes back into the shelter, grabbing gym bags as she goes in order to pack book, chime, letters, Detective clothes and sexy floral kapa lengths (might want them at some point in the future). Stacking the bags near the entryway, Chloe hears the floof sound of great wings.

After Lucifer lands, he queries, “Detective, besides the obvious, that you’ve finally come to your senses, why the rush?”

As he folds in the wings, Chloe saunters up to Lucifer, “While we are figuring out the complete prophecy, I intend to do my part to make sure Hell stays frozen over.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who came along for the ride. I'm very grateful to everyone who commented, bookmarked or left kudos. You really inspired me and helped me finish before Season 5 A starts. Our countdown is in hours now.
> 
> Song credits and other inspirations  
> Devil’s Backbone by The Civil Wars  
> Underneath Your Clothes by Shakira  
> Ella’s ideas about covering up the appearances of an angel in the sky by using weather phenomenon discussions of Roswell in Ancient Aliens  
> Lucifer getting with the program quickly Credit to Devilish Delights by wolftheforsaken)

**Author's Note:**

> Message in a Thermos owes its title to Message in a Bottle by the Police. The song lyrics can be found throughout the story.


End file.
